Lovesong
by the Zoshi
Summary: SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE KxK and other pairings 3 months have passed... time enough to gather ones thoughts, time enough to decide what's real... THE END HAS COME UPDATE 8 22 2008
1. Breads and

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:  
Song at the beginning: "Sealed with a Kiss" by Bobby Vinton

Song at the end: "Lovesong" by The Cure (aka the title song of this story)

What else to say? Welcome back to return reviewers, if there are any… XD And Welcome to any new readers! Oy, new readers! If you haven't already, go click on my name up there and read Vanilla Blue first. Otherwise you might be a little confused. I mean, this IS a sequel, after all…

BTW The point of view shifts each chapter. And the rest is a surprise. :P

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

_'Tho we gotta say goodbye for the summer  
Darling I promise you this  
I'll send you all my love every day in a letter  
Sealed with a kiss  
Guess it's gonna be a cold lonely summer  
But I'll fill the emptiness  
I'll send you all my love every day in a letter  
Sealed with a kiss  
I'll see you in the sunlight  
I'll hear your voice everywhere  
I'll run to tenderly hold you  
But darling you won't be there  
I don't wanna say goodbye for the summer  
Knowing the love we'll miss  
Oh let us make a pledge to meet in September  
And seal it with a kiss  
Guess it's gonna be a cold lonely summer  
But I'll fill the emptiness  
I'll send you all my love every day in a letter  
Sealed with a kiss_

* * *

Butters leaned back against the school wall, looking around aimlessly. Kenny had said he was going to show up the first day of school, but, considering he'd been dead for the last five of them, the odds just happened to be against him. Still, Butter's decided to wait anyways, since there was always a chance that the fates had decided otherwise.

He fidgeted with the strap of his book bag nervously. Kenny had been fine for most of the summer, acting out like he usually did, and if Butters hadn't known about the whole situation he wouldn't have seen anything wrong. But the closer and closer the first day of school had gotten, the more and more closed off Kenny had been. Butters frowned to himself, looking around at the students milling around the front steps. He didn't know why he bothered looking, there would certainly had been a reaction by now, anyway.

He turned back to looking out towards the school gates, sighing. He was worried about Kenny, he had no idea how the blond would react if he came to school today and _he_ wasn't here.

Butters frowned. Kyle, KYLE. He'd gotten so used to avoiding his name that he was doing it in his thoughts, too. Argh. He shook his head, deciding that, no matter what, it was time to stop avoiding it. Whether Kyle showed up today or not, he was still going to have his talk with Kenny. It had waited all summer, but it was high time. Yes. Butters was decided.

His attention snapped back as he saw a group of familiar people heading in through the gates. Yes! He pushed off of the wall and headed over, cutting across the school lawn to meet with them.

"Hey guys!" He grinned as he caught up. Cartman rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath as Butters joined them.

"Hey," Stan said, sounding a bit tired. He didn't look like he'd slept that well the night before.

Kenny just nodded somewhere in his general direction, and Butters could see his eyes flicking across the people gathered in front of the school. Butters looked too, but no luck. He moved over to walk next to the other blonde, trying to think of something to say.

"Oh, Kenny, you're here on a first day a'school," Butters grinned brightly, trying to catch his eye. "That's… that's a good sign, huh?"

Kenny looked at him for a moment, puzzled, then, finally, grinned.

"Yeah, I guess it is." He replied. Butters was happy to see that the blonde seemed a little cheered by the thought.

They were nearing the school doors now, most of the kids around them milling about uneasily. The bell was about to ring at any moment, and everyone seemed to be wishing it wouldn't come. Butters didn't quite understand it really. At least coming to school was something to do, at least it was a change of scenery. Butters liked coming to school, if only for the reason that it gave him something other to do than sit at home and think up stories. Well, not like he didn't just sit at school and think up stories too, but at least the place he did it changed. Besides, at school he got to see all his friends, and he got to make new ones. And he got to learn things he wouldn't learn at home because his dad had never gotten cable installed even though all their neighbors had it.

Butters was nodding a hello to another classmate when he felt the pressure change in the air next to him. He turned back, faced forward to see the person who'd been MIA for the past few months.

"Hey guys," Kyle said, grinning at them. He was a little different than before, a little taller, a little thinner. He'd let his hair grow out, and it was longer than it had been before. He had the same thin-framed glasses on, and, surprisingly, the same beat up messenger bag he'd had since he'd started high school.

But it was him.

Kyle was back.

The first person to react was Stan. Dropping his bag to the ground, he let out a loud whoop as he raced forward and threw his arms around his best friend.

"Kyle! Fuck, man, where the hell have you been?! I haven't heard from you in ages! Dude!" Stan burst out, his words almost tumbling over themselves in their hurry to get out his mouth. "Dude, don't do shit like that! I was worried out of my fucking mind!"  
"Sorry, dude," Kyle laughed, hugging Stan back for a moment before shoving him away. "Doesn't mean you have to try to squeeze me to death, man…"

"You're such a fucking loser," Stan shot back, throwing a few good-natured punches his way. Kyle easily dodged them, laughing, and finally turned to the rest of the group.

"How's it going?" He said, grinning widely. "What'd I miss?"

"Absoluteleh nothing, _jew_," Cartman spat, crossing his arms and glaring at the redhead. "Gawd, why the hell did you come back? Ah was finalleh getting used to not having to see your ugleh jew face around."

"Dude," Kyle pointed a finger at him. "Dude, if I wasn't so fucking happy to be back, I would be starting shit with you right now."

"So what, Ah'm supposed to fucking count myself luckeh or something?" Cartman snorted.

"Exactly." Kyle replied.

Cartman had another retort ready, but Butters wasn't paying attention. He'd turned his eyes to Kenny, who, at the moment, seemed at a total loss for what to do. Butters couldn't blame him; the guy had spent the last few months waiting patiently for Kyle to come back, only to see him, for the first time, at school, in front of people who had no idea what had happened between them, or why Kyle had disappeared with barely a word. Butters could see practically see the emotions swirling inside him, like smoke caught in a glass bottle.

Kyle had finally gotten Cartman into a corner he couldn't find a way out of, and turned triumphantly to the next person in line.

"Hey Kenny, dude, you're here on the first day?" Kyle grinned. Butters felt more than saw Kenny twitch. As mean as it sounded, he was very glad he wasn't in his position.

"Can't get lucky all the time, eh?" Kenny answered, shrugging. "Whatever, just a bunch of classes doing nothing anyway."

The bell rang suddenly, putting an end to any further conversation as students began streaming in through the doors. The five grouped together, trying to keep from being separated in the crowd. Everyone still needed their schedules, no one knew where they were headed, and every five feet another random person was screaming out greetings to one or two or all of them.

In other words, school had started.

* * *

Butters headed out from the cafeteria, humming a wordless tune on his way to the bathroom. The morning had passed uneventfully, and he was in a pretty good mood, considering. He'd expected a little more… something. Hm, but there wasn't much of anything, really. Oh, well, every now and then he'd catch Kenny staring after Kyle as they passed in the hallways, but you couldn't really blame the guy. Butters knew he couldn't, he'd caught himself more than a few times that day alone staring after--

Well, it didn't matter who he'd been staring after. He shook his head, trudging onward through the mostly empty hallways. He'd just reached the last corner when voices reached him. Stopping at the edge, he was about to look around it when he recognized the voices.

"What the fuck are saying?" A strained voice, a hurt voice. Kenny's.

"Look, I told you… I'm sorry, but… things change…" A calm voice, controlled. Kyle's.

"So that's how its going to be, huh? "Things change", what a fucking load of bull shit…"

"…I know its hard to hear…"

"Do you now? Do you really? Fuck, I don't remember you waiting three months, like a fucking idiot, just to hear that everything's fucking over…"

"… I… if its all right… I still… I still wanna be friends…"

"You know what? Do me a favor and go fuck yourself…"

Butters barely managed to dodge back into an open classroom as Kenny stomped past. He couldn't catch a good glimpse of the blonde's face, but Butters had a good idea that it wouldn't have looked pretty. Quietly, he crept out of the classroom, looking in the direction Kenny had taken. The hallway was empty, which only meant that the blonde had been moving much quicker than Butters had thought.

He turned around, creeping along the wall back towards the corner. Peering around it, he saw Kyle leaning against one of the windows, staring out through the glass. He didn't look happy either.

Remembering what he'd just heard, Butters was filled with a sudden, violent urge to do something damaging to the redhead. Gritting his teeth, he managed to keep that feeling back, thought with some difficulty. Getting into trouble the first day of school was _definitely_ not something he wanted to do. Especially not with his dad home on vacation that week.

Butters crept back away from the corner, heading silently back towards the cafeteria. A part of him was silently fuming, and it wasn't until he had reached the cafeteria doors that he realized he never did get to the bathroom.

* * *

The room was dark. Broken shutters had been pulled down to keep the sun out, were still pulled low even though the sun had set a while back. Butters moved across the floor slowly, carefully, so he wouldn't trip over anything. Nearing the bed, he pushed a few empty beer bottles aside with his shoe and sat down. He put a hand on the other blonde's shoulder, giving it a shake, but Kenny was out good, and looked like he'd be out for the rest of the night, too.

Butters sighed, looking down at his friend sadly. Patting Kenny's shoulder, he noticed that the blonde had headphones on. Gently, he pulled them off, looking around to see what there were connected to. An old, beat up CD player lay on the floor next to the bed. Picking it up, he saw that there was one track selected to play on repeat. Curiosity getting the best of him, he put the headphones on.

_However far away_

_I will always love you_

_However long I stay_

_I will always love you_

_Whatever words I say_

_I will always love you_

_I will always love you_

Butters pulled the headphones off, stared at them in his hands for a moment. With a shaky hand he turned the CD player off and set it down, gently, on the floor, well away from anywhere where someone could step on it. He looked over at Kenny again, and a sharp pain ran through his heart. He didn't know what he'd say, didn't know what he'd do, when Kenny woke up and started looking for answers. Started looking for help. Started looking for some way of explaining what had happened, why, how. Butters had tried so hard over the summer to be a person with the answers, to be someone Kenny could turn to whenever he needed it, but at that moment he felt so helpless. He didn't know if he had the answers Kenny needed.

Getting up, he walked around to the other side of the bed and lay down, back to back with his drunken friend, and tried to figure out what he was going to say come tomorrow.


	2. SBoy

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

Chapter 2? OMG YES… I mean, in keeping with the vein of VB, I've gotten the next chapter out of my brain and out into the open in the space of what… two days? Whoohoo, baby… XD

Anyways! Thanks to my reviewers! 6 in one day, w00t. OH HEY! I have a goal! VB broke 80 reviews, lets see if we can get LS to 90! Or better, 100! XD Ahahaha, who'm I kidding? But it'd be fun…

Thanks to:

**SunglassesANDunicorns: **Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far: )

**Karmaholic: **Whoooo! I hope you enjoy this story too!

**Kenylover98: **Haha, actually, I'm a little pissed at Kyle too… but more's to come on that… and speaking of Butters… no, no, I'll just let you find out as the story goes on.. XD Its more fun that way. Thanks for coming back to read! 3

**Ren85: **The Cure are my loves of all loves. I grew up on The Cure and Pink Floyd. Pink Floyd's music, however, is a little too… ambiguous for what I'm going for. The Cure, however, fits right in. And a plus! Matt and Trey love The Cure TOO! XD Ohoho, come on, its MY fic, I mean, if there wasn't sadness… It'd probably mean I'm sick or something… XD

**Lovebaby: **Well, welcome to the sequel! Thank you for reviewing, I'm glad you enjoyed VB enough to come back and read LS: ) I hope you enjoy LS as much as I hope you enjoyed VB!

**JumpinPopTarts: **Thanks for coming back for the sequel! 3 I'm glad you enjoyed VB enough to look for this story… heheh, will they get back? We'll see, I guess… evil grin I hope you enjoy the rest of this story too!

ARGH I LOVE WRITING!!!!

* * *

Title: Lovesong 

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Stan had no idea what was going on. Yesterday everyone had been fine, everything had been going good. Kyle was finally back, and things were getting back to normal.

Today, the tension was so thick it was making it hard to breathe. Stan glanced out of the corner of his eye at his best friend sitting next to him. Kyle was calmly eating his lunch, and if not the fact that he was strangely silent, Stan wouldn't have realized anything wrong. He shifted his gaze to the other side of the table, where Cartman, Butters, and Kenny sat all in a row. Cartman was picking through his food, discouraged to find that his sharp jokes and snide comments weren't getting through to the redhead. Butters sat next to him, putting his fries into rows based on length, every now and then shooting a nervous glance over at the other blond sitting next to him. Kenny was staring off at a distance wall, and had been ever since he sat down at the table. Stan had tried getting some reaction out of him, but gave up when it was apparent that even food wouldn't work.

"So, uh…" Stan started, cleared his throat. "I heard they were starting to plan Homecoming already. Time to start looking for dates, huh?"

"Stan, dude, with you its always time to start looking for dates," Kyle snickered, speaking finally. Stan relaxed a little, keeping from breathing out a sigh of relief.

"Hey, man, its never too early," Stan grinned. Kyle shrugged, looking over at him.

"I'm sure we'll manage to find some girls dumb enough to go with us…" Kyle grinned back. Stan laughed, shaking his head.

The sharp scraping of chair legs against the floor broke through the laughter, and Stan turned just in time to see Kenny get up and stalk off through the cafeteria. Butters, still working with his fries, let out a sigh. Cartman looked after Kenny curiously, then shrugged and turned to look at Kyle, a sinister grin on his face.

"Hey Kyle, did you-"

"Shut up fatass-"

" 'ey, don't cut me off, you-"

* * *

Stan hurried down the school's front steps. Kyle was off joining whatever clubs he wanted to join to make his school papers look better, so Stan was taking this chance to try and find Kenny. There was definitely something going on, and Stan wanted to know what. When the two were apart, they acted like normal, but as soon as they got within ten feet of each other the tension began to rise until Stan could swear he could hear it buzzing around him. It was disconcerting.

He glanced around, finally spotting a blond head off to the side of the school. Hurrying over, he slowed down when he realized that it was just Butters. Still, maybe he knew where Kenny was, they _had_ been hanging out a lot over the summer.

"Hey, Butters," Stan called, and the blonde turned to face him. He looked a little tired, but as grinned brightly when he saw Stan.

"Hi Stan, how's it goin'?" Butters asked as Stan neared.

"Nothing much, just wanted to ask you if you knew where Kenny was…" Stan looked at him hopefully, but Butters shook his head.

"Chem class, his par'ner mixed chemicals that weren't supposed to be mixed…" Butters sighed, then looked at Stan. "Why?"

"I just wanted to know what the hell is going on…" Stan sighed, looking around desperately. He looked back at Butters, who was giving him a puzzled look. "Do you know what's going on?"

"Goin' on? What do ya mean?" Butters asked, shifting the books in his arms.

"You know, between Kyle and Kenny…" Stan said. Butters gave him a blank look. "Butters! I know you noticed it too! Come on, do you know anything?"

"I dunno what you're talkin' about, Stan," Butters shrugged. "But if ya think there's somethin' goin' on, well, I guess that you're jus' gonna have to ask Kyle, since Kenny's not around."

"Are you sure you don't know anything?" Stan asked. Butters fidgeted with his books some more.

"Ah'm sure, S-Stan. A-Ah gotta get home now, Ah'll see ya t-tomorrow…" Butters dodged around Stan and started walking off. It took Stan all of one second to get suspicious; Butters hadn't stuttered since fifth grade, and then it was only when he was lying about something.

The black haired boy spun around and hurried a little to catch up with the blond. Finally getting up next to him he tossed an arm around Butters's shoulders. The blonde flinched, and tried to jerk away, but Stan pulled him back.

"All right then, I'll walk with you…" Stan said, grinning. Butters didn't look that happy with their current situation, and looked around, everywhere except at Stan. "And you'll tell me all about this thing that you say you don't know anything about, okay?"

"Stan, Ah told you, A-Ah don't know anythin'…" Butters muttered. Stan didn't believe it.

"Butters, something is going on between two of my best friends. I want to know what it is, and I know you can tell me…" Stan said, voice low. Butters pulled out from under Stan's arm, looking away.

"Ah can't tell you anythin', Stan." He said firmly, finally looking back at Stan. His eyes were hard, stony.

"You _do_ know something!" Stan said, grabbed the blond by the shoulders. "Please, please Butters, tell me! I need to know!"

"No ya don't, Stan." Butters said. "No one needs ta know, this is their problem, and they gotta deal with it…"

Stan looked at him, exasperated and almost tired with the situation. He put on his best begging-puppy look and tried again.

"Please Butters? I really want to help them, I don't know how…" He begged. "Come on, just tell me, I won't tell anyone else, I promise. Please? Pleeeaaase?"

For a moment, it seemed as if his act was working, because Butters began to look uncertain. He bit his lip thoughtfully, and Stan began to pray that it worked. Work, work, work. But then Butters's face hardened.

"No Stan. If ya want ta find out, you're just going to have to ask one of them. And since Kenny's not here, that means you'll just have ta ask Kyle about it." Butters said sternly. Stan opened his mouth to speak again, but Butters interrupted him. "No, Stan. No. An made a promise and Ah'm keeping it. No one else knows, and no one else has ta know."

With that he pulled out of Stan's grasp again and hurried down the sidewalk, leaving Stan staring after him in surprise. When in hell had Butters grown a backbone like that? By the time he'd gathered himself again Butters was just a swiftly shrinking dot in the distance.

"Fuck!" he kicked at a nearby, half-withered clump of grass viciously. Now what the hell was he going to do? There was definitely something going on between Kyle and Kenny, and something major, too, if even Butters was doing everything he could to keep the secret. He groaned, he did _not_ want to talk to Kyle about this. Best friends or not, this was likely to stir up some ill feelings, and he didn't want to get Kyle pissed at him so soon after he got back.

What was he going to do now?

"I know what's going on…"

Stan jerked around at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, but coming out of nowhere like that it scared the crap out of him. He spun to see Ike standing a few feet behind him, arms crossed over his chest.

"Ike! Its been a long time, buddy," Stan said in relief, walking over to tousle the boy's hair.

"You want to know what's going on with Kyle and… and Kenny, right?" Ike said, his eyes glinting slightly. Stan looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah," He said, watching, puzzled, as Ike glanced around in every direction. The boy leaned towards him.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone," He whispered conspiratorially, then grabbed Stan's arm and dragged him off the sidewalk and behind some trees. "I'm not, so you can't tell anyone who told you, okay?"

"Okay, yeah… sure…" Stan said. They stopped, and Ike looked around again, quickly, before turning back to him.

"Oh, and don't ask me how I found out, 'cause I won't tell you…" Ike said, pointing a stern finger at Stan.

"Sure, buddy," Stan said, "I won't."

"You promise? And you promise you won't tell anyone you found out from me? And that you won't tell anyone, period?" Ike asked, shaking his finger.

"I promise." Stan said seriously.

"Okay…" Ike said, then took a deep breath, readying himself, and then said in one breath, without pausing, "Last year during school Kyle started going out with Kenny and it wasn't really serious and then Kyle thought he was getting serious about it but he was having problems and he wasn't doing as good on his tests like he was supposed to so when mom and dad told us about going to visit our aunt and uncle in New York he didn't know if he wanted to or not but then he decided to go at, like, the last minute and I guess he told Kenny to wait for him but then when we were there he thought about it and thought about it and decided that it wasn't really something he wanted and now that we're back he told Kenny and… and… yeah… and that's what happened."

Ike ended gasping for breath. He looked around, making sure no one could see them. Stan stared at him in shock, his mind still trying to process the words he'd heard.

Kyle…and…and _Kenny_… _Kyle and Kenny?_

"W…what?" Stan squeaked out, "You're telling me that they were… that… that they were…"

He couldn't get the word out. The idea of his best friend in the whole world getting together with another friend of his, a _guy_ friend… it didn't fit in his head. His brain couldn't get around it.

"Remember, Stan, you promised!" Ike hissed, eyes wide.

"But… but, how, how did you…?" Stan choked out, but Ike shook his head.

"Nuh-uh, I told you I can't tell you, Stan." Ike said, backing away. "I have to go home now, if I'm late mom'll kill me…"

The boy took off running, but Stan didn't see him leave. He lowered himself to the ground staring around at things but not really seeing them. When did that happen? How, HOW could he have missed it? When were they…doing, whatever they did? Did they…? Oh god, they didn't _do… _NO, no, he was _not_ letting his mind going in that direction, he wasn't…

He leaned back against a tree, staring up at the sky, and tried to get his thoughts back in order.

* * *

"Kyle, let's talk." Stan said, sitting down on the bed. Kyle spun around in his desk chair to look at him.

"All right, talk." Kyle said. "About what?"

"About…" Stan looked at him for a moment, then turned away, clearing his throat. He tried to focus on something else in the room. "About… Kyle…"

"Yeah?" Kyle raised an eyebrow, putting the book he'd been thumbing through aside.

"About… Kyle, I…I heard some things… some things about last year, about you…and-" Stan began haltingly. Kyle's voice cut in, sharp, and he jerked around to face the redhead.

"Stop." Kyle was giving him a hard look, his eyes cold, his voice low. "Stop right there Stan."

"I…Kyle, I just wanted to talk to you, to ask…" Stan swallowed thickly, unnerved by the harshness of his best friends gaze.

"Ask whether it was true? Whether it happened?" Kyle gave an angry sigh. "Yes, it is. It _was_, Stan. Its all over."

"But, Kyle…" Stan started again.

"No, Stan, no, I _don't_ want to talk about it." Kyle said, "Its not something I like thinking about, and its not something I want to dwell on for any period of time, no matter how short. Its not something I'm exactly proud of, and honestly, it makes me a little sick inside to think about it. So please, just drop it. I've tried really hard to just put it all behind me and focus on the present and the future now… I've wasted enough time as it is…"

That last part was muttered, half under his breath, and Kyle turned his gaze to the floor. Stan watched him for a moment, still struggling, still wanting to know more, know why, why, why. Finally, he choked back all the words that were trying to burst out of him.

"All…all right, Kyle…" He said softly. "You know… you know I'm here for you if you need to talk… or anything…"

Kyle looked up at him, his face softening. He grinned finally.

"Yeah, Stan, I know…" He answered back. "Thanks.

Stan nodded, watched as Kyle turned back to the book he'd put aside. There were still some things bothering him, but he guessed he could put them aside for now.

Although, it seemed that in this instance, his natural urge to help get his friends back on speaking terms would have to be postponed for a while.


	3. Return of the OP

-1Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

OMG This chapter is exactly the same amount of lines long as the previous chapter. O: Which is amazing, because I was stuck at a page and a half for three-four days… XD

Sorry, not going to do personalized rev-responses today because I feel shitty, I just finished writing this after having walked around in 80+ degree weather for three hours, and I need to take a shower because I smell really, really bad. But I love you. All. Very, very much.

BTW, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. And the return of ---- POV…. Oh, look, it doesn't say who's… oh well, you'll just have to read and find out who's POV it is this time… XD

Thanks to:

**SunglassesANDunicorns**

**Karmaholic**

**Kenylover98**

**Ren85**

**Lovebaby**

**DarkDeSkullJaimeyKay**

**Junkee**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Kenny leaned back against he bottom wall of the deck, looking out over Butters's backyard. The other blonde was humming to himself as he walked around, picking flowers off the rose bushes as he walked by. Kenny sighed, eyeing the symmetrically arranged garden, with its flowers beds in precise squares arranged around out behind the deck. It was a little sickening, the order of it all. He wondered if the flowers ever felt overly contained, trapped, caged, in those little green metal latticework fences that bordered them.

Butters sat down next to him, sucking on a pricked finger, and handed him a large, yellow rose. Kenny took it, looking at it in surprise.

"Yellow, huh?" He looked over at the other blonde, and Butters grinned. He was still holding an orange rose, petals just barely opened. "Who's that one for?"

Butters blushed, looking down at the rose in his hands.

"No one…" He said, touching a finger to one of its petals. Kenny smirked, slouching back a little so he was more laying against he wall than leaning.

"Sure." He laughed, bringing the yellow rose up to his nose. It smelled sweet, and clean, and fresh. He sighed, deeply. As surprisingly calm as hanging out in Butters's garden was, it still wasn't enough to chase away the thoughts that kept running round in his head. He looked back at Butters thoughtfully. "Hey, you wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?"

"Oh, oh, yeah… don't worry 'bout it…" Butters said, looking at him and grinning. Kenny frowned.

"It sounded important…" He pushed further, and Butters looked away.

"It… it's nothin'… " Butters said, looking at the rose in his hands again. Oh, okay. Kenny thought he understood now.

"You wanted advice?" He grinned as Butters shifted uncomfortably. "You wanted to pop the question, but you didn't know how, huh?"

"Well, well, Ah…" Butters stumbled over his words, a little flustered. "It… it doesn't matter… Ah.. Ah decided to wait a little…"

"Really? Why?" Kenny asked, looking at him curiously.

Butters just shook his head without replying. Kenny kept looking at him thoughtfully, wondering what exactly made him decide otherwise. Well, maybe it was the whole "situation" that was going on…Fuck. He always ended up getting back to it, no matter how hard he tried to think of other things. He looked back at the rose in his hands, pale golden yellow and innocent looking. Finger tracing along the edge of a petal, he opened his mouth to say something when the bushes on the side of the deck rustled.

"What was that?" Kenny looked over, narrowing his eyes. Butters leaned over, and they sat still for a few moments, listening.

"Aw, it was probably jus' a cat or somethin'…" Butters shrugged and leaned back against the deck. "They've been comin' 'round ever since we got that bird feeder…"

Kenny grunted, still eyeing the bush suspiciously. Eh, whatever. He turned back to look across the yard.

"I quit the gas station today…" He said, continuing with what he'd been about to say. The decision hadn't been an easy one, it'd been nice to have two incomes coming in. But with school back in session, and other things crowding his mind, he didn't really feel like he'd be able to keep up.

"You did? Why?" Butters asked, looking at him puzzled.

"Too much stuff to do, I wouldn't have gotten any sleep…" Kenny replied listlessly. "Besides, I was saving up to…"

He stopped, fuck, he hadn't wanted to start saying that. Butters gave him a pitying look. Kenny grimaced.

"Fuck, Butters, don't look at me like that…" He growled, refusing to look at the other blonde.

"Ah'm sorry, Kenny…" Butters said softly after a moment, looking down at the ground.

"For what?" Kenny asked, twirling the rose around in his fingers angrily. The thorns were leaving scratches in his skin, and his hands were beginning to itch from them.

"For… well, Kenny, here Ah was, tellin' you it was gonna be all right, and then Kyle comes back, and…" Butters paused for a moment, his voice quieter when he continued. "Ah… Ah just feel liked he fooled me, and…"

"Butters, dude, that's one thing you don't have to feel bad about…" Kenny laughed hollowly, "You're not the only one he fooled…"

Butters looked at him, blue eyes wide, fingers fidgeting in the petals of the rose he held.

"Ah… Ah just feel bad that Ah was tellin' you not to worry… and…" Kenny cut him off, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Butters, don't worry about it…" Kenny grinned as well as he could at that moment. "Don't, alright? You… you were awesome, you really helped me. Don't blame yourself for being a good friend."

Butters grinned at him finally, looked down again. Suddenly, he let out a groan.

"Aw, Kenny, look what Ah did!" Butters looked morosely at the petals and stem that were formerly a rose in his hands. Kenny grinned, then started laughing. "Kenny, its not funny! It was so pretty, too…"

Kenny shook his head, clapping the blonde on the shoulder. Butters looked at him defensively, but a smile was trying to creep onto his face.

"Kenny, stop…" Butters started, but couldn't manage to finish his sentence before laughter began to bubble out of him too.

They laughed for a long time, relieved laughter, the kind that got things off chests and lightened the mood. For just a short while, Kenny forgot about everything that had been bothering him, about all the thoughts that were whirling through his mind. But the moment passed quickly, their laughter fading away as time passed. There they were again, Butters staring at the remains of the rose in his hands, Kenny staring off into the distance.

"You know," Kenny started, quietly, "I… I really love him."

He paused for a moment, then chuckled sadly.

"I… I never got to tell him… I couldn't, I don't know why… fuck…" He turned to look at Butters, "Do… do you think that if I'd told him, it'd… it'd have ended up different?"

He saw Butters turn nervous, eyes flicking from Kenny to the rose petals in his hands and back. He sighed finally, turning to look directly at him.

"Kenny…" He began, but didn't continue. Kenny shook his head, he shouldn't be asking Butters that. Butters didn't have all the answers. He wasn't sure anyone did.

"Forget it…" Kenny sighed angrily. Fuck Kyle. Fuck him and his fucking change of fucking heart. He was going to tell him, as soon as he got back. He was going to tell him and everything was going to be great. But then he came back with his fucking "Sorry" and "thing's change" and fucking "I still want to be friends". Fuck that. Kenny had enough of that shit.

"What're you gonna do, Kenny?" Butters asked. Kenny shrugged, focusing on the yellow rose in his hand. It was starting to look a little worse for the wear, and he should probably stop spinning it in his fingers, but instead he just started to spin it harder. Butters continued, "Do you still wanna be with him?"

The rose in Kenny's hands stuttered to a stop. Kenny didn't want to answer. No, no, the truth was he didn't know _how_ to answer. Ever since that fateful day a week earlier, he'd been living constantly in the now, not thinking ahead, not wondering what tomorrow would be like. It hurt too much to think that he wouldn't be able to be with Kyle the next day, it hurt too much when thinking about the future only reminded him of the past, and what they'd had.

"He… he lied to me…" Kenny muttered, shifting so that he was really laying on the ground.

"Maybe… maybe his parents did somethin'…" Butters said thoughtfully. Kenny mused it over too, but then shook his head.

"But if they did, then he could've just told me. I would've understood…" Kenny said, "Fuck, if I'd had to wait till we graduated, I would've."

"Really?" Butters asked, sounding surprised. Kenny nodded.

"Really…" Kenny stayed silent for a moment, then let out a loud groan, throwing his head back and staring up into the sky. "Why the fuck does everything have to go to shit all the time?"

Butters didn't answer, and they stayed there in silence for a long time. Finally, with a sigh, Kenny pulled himself up.

"Okay, Butters… I gotta get going…" He said, standing. Butters sighed too, tossing the petals he'd been holding aside.

"All right then, Kenny…" Butters looked up at him. "Well, Ah guess Ah'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah…" Kenny said, sticking the rose he still held in his jeans pocket so the flower stuck out. He grinned down at the other blond. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Kenny." Butters grinned back.

"Later," Kenny said with a wave, then walked off.

Heading down the sidewalk, he kept his eyes down, staring at the ground as he passed it. The dull ache in his chest was throbbing now, stronger an weaker and stronger again. He still couldn't get over just how easily those words had come out of Kyle's mouth, how fluidly, how smooth. No tremor, no pause, he just said them as if he was doing nothing more than ordering lunch at the school caf. Kenny grimaced, trying to shove those thoughts away. Each time he thought back to that day, the ache in his chest started shooting pain all through the rest of him, and it was bitch to ignore.

"Kenneh, ey, KENNEH!"

Kenney snapped around, shocked out of his thoughts. Cartman was walking up behind him, looking a little… worried? His expression changed quickly, and then he was smirking as always. He walked up to clap a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"Where've you been, Kenny? Ah haven't seen you after school at all, dude…" Cartman asked, his smirk twitching into a grin. Kenny shrugged.

"Been busy, I guess. You know, work and stuff…" Kenny replied, eyeing Cartman curiously.

"Kenneh, you start work at 8. Ah know, all right? So don't try to pull that on me…" Cartman said, pointing a stern finger at him. Kenny leaned away a little, eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" He asked suspiciously. Cartman looked shocked.

"Kenneh, why do you think that when Ah'm nice Ah want something…" Cartman put a hand to his chest.

"Because you usually do." Kenny replied. Cartman looked angry for a moment.

"You know, Ah WAS going to ask you if you wanted to come over to mah house for dinner," Cartman said, taking his hand off of Kenny's shoulder and folding his arms across his chest.

"Why?" Kenny asked, still suspicious. Cartman let out a sigh of gigantic proportions.

"Because, Kenneh, just BECAUSE. Gawd, do Ah really need a reason to invite mah BFF over to mah house for dinner?" Cartman growled.

"And you don't want anything from me?" Kenny asked. This was way too strange.

"Kenneh, you're dirt poor. What the hell could Ah want from you that Ah can't get myself?" Cartman snapped, and Kenny gritted his teeth, glaring at him. "Come on, you're going to mah house whether you like it or not…"

Cartman gripped Kenny's shoulder tightly and began to drag him down the street. Kenny resisted a little, but, really, he _had_ been getting hungry, so maybe dinner at Cartman's wouldn't be that bad. Even if he did have to put up with Cartman's biased, snide comments.

"What're you having for dinner?" Kenny asked, once he decided he'd definitely be going.

"Chicken pot pie." Cartman replied happily.

"And you're sure there's going to be enough for me?" Kenny asked in disbelief. Cartman snorted, giving Kenny a hard shove that nearly knocked him into the street.

"Ah told mah mom you'd be coming over." Cartman said.

"Oh, wow, thanks for letting me know beforehand…" Kenny rolled his eyes. Fuck, was Cartman for real? He really did think he could get everyone to do what he wanted them to do. Which wasn't what Kenny was doing. Not at all. Because if he hadn't been so hungry he would've refused. Yeah. Totally.

"You're welcome," Cartman said with a condescending smile. Kenny resisted the urge to punch him in the face, deciding to leave that for after-dinner entertainment.

They were almost at Cartman's house before something that he'd said came back to Kenny.

"Oh my fucking god, Cartman," He said, turning to him with a sardonic laugh, "You haven't called me your fucking BFF in, like, 5 fucking years… where the hell did you pull that out from?"

"Your ass, now shut up," Cartman growled back at him. Kenny couldn't help it, and continued to laugh, making Cartman even more pissed. "GAWDAMMIT PO'BOY! Ah said shut up! … that's it, that's fucking IT, you're not getting any food…"

"Shit, shit, sorry," Kenny choked out, wiping away tears from his eyes. "Sorry… haha…"

"Nothing, Kenneh, you're not getting ANYTHING…" Cartman huffed, stomping up to his door and slamming it open. Kenny followed, still trying to hold back laughter. At least today looked like it was going to end on a good note.


	4. Red Sheep

EDIT: I had to put this in. Someone actually, ACTUALLY, gave this review:

"stotow  
2007-07-04  
ch 1, anon.u bitches must have alot of fuckin time on your fuckin hands 2 right a fuckin gay story that no body but theses gay cuntss love get a fuckin life"

So, let's see, who has more time on their hands? Me, or the idiot who actually wrote that horrible mangled comment like that? ...um... what the hell are you doing reading this, anyways? pfft... loser... XD

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

It doesn't seem like it, but this chapter is longer than the previous one. The reason it doesn't seem like it is because its written worse. I think. I don't know.

You all should enjoy it. I expect.

MMMM… Food for thought.

**Thanks to:**

**Kenylover98**

**JaimeyKay**

**Ren85**

**Lovebaby**

**Tweeky Kinz**

**Victoria Faust**

**Bee Bop **

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong 

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

The wind was blowing pretty harshly, whipping the strands of hair that had escaped past his hat around his eyes wildly. He could feel it pulling at his jacket as he stood there, looking down at the ground. The air still tasted ashy, and the black circle of burnt grass and objects at his feet still smoked slightly. 

Kyle toed at the remains of a string of Mardi Gras beads. Green. The color still shone through the cracks of the blackened plastic. Gritting his teeth, he stamped on the remaining objects, crushing them beneath the sole of his shoe viciously. A sharp spike of anger shot through him, but he clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and kept it at bay.

No anger. No anger.

He turned around, walking past the cabin and back into the trees, following an unseen path that he knew much better than he'd like to admit. The trees around him shook in the fierce wind, and the starlight glittered across the whipped surface of Stark's Pond up ahead.

Kyle grimaced, pointing his eyes at the ground and hunching his shoulders against the wind as he left the trees behind. August, September… tomorrow, tomorrow. He tried to focus on tomorrow. Shit. There was going to be a history test tomorrow. Ten thirty was really too late to get started on any studying. Tomorrow, his math homework was done for tomorrow. That was good. Gym was tomorrow. That was all right, but he couldn't say he'd been enjoying it lately.

The snow in his vision changed suddenly to hard concrete, and he looked up finally to find himself at the edge of the road, Stark's Pond left far behind. For no reason he could find in himself, he turned back, looking over at the wind-whipped waters of the pond. A shudder ran through him, and he turned back, hurrying down the sidewalk. He should be home right now. He shouldn't be out walking around to fuck knows where this late at night.

If they notice he's gone.

If… If… If…

He shook his head, focusing on the cracks in the cement beneath his feet. Better not to think. Tomorrow. Focus on tomorrow. His fists clenched inside his jacket pockets, and he coughed once into the bitter wind. He was probably getting a cold. His head was starting to feel heavy and there was an ache in his chest.

"Well, well, what do we have hyah? A loneleh Jew out for a late night stroll, hmm?"

Kyle jerked to a stop, looking up to glare at the person blocking the path ahead of him. Cartman sneered at him, arms crossed across his thick chest. Kyle felt his fists clench in his pockets, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn't about to let Cartman get to him, not now, so he started off again, ready to push pass him.

"Where you going, Kahl?" Cartman turned as he passed him, keeping pace. "Huh? Why're you being so quiet?"

Kyle sped up, trying to ignore him as best he could. The trees on either side of the street were thinning out, and they were reaching the first buildings that constituted the center of the town. Cartman continued to keep pace with him, eyeing him with a look that Kyle thought seemed a little… calculating.

"What's wrong, Kahl? Don't want to talk to one of your oldest friends?" Cartman said, with a nasty kind of smirk. He knew as much as Kyle did that that was pure and utter bullcrap. Kyle barked a laugh, not slowing down.

"What the hell do you want, fatass?" He growled, looking at Cartman out of the corner of his eye.

"I just wanted to talk to you, Kahl. We haven't talked at all since you got back," Cartman said with such an amount of hyper-sweeted sincerity that Kyle almost felt his blood sugar jump. He tried not to gag and instead satisfied himself with just giving Cartman the nastiest look he could manage.

"Sure you are. What are you up to this time?" Kyle said with unconcealed exasperation. It seemed pretty apparent that he wouldn't get rid of Cartman until he got to his house. Where he should be, right now. Instead of out here. Wandering in the half-dark. With fatass.

"I'm not up to anything, Kahl. Why would you think that?" Cartman said, glancing around at the world around them. Kyle didn't know why he did, the buildings of downtown South Park weren't that interesting after all.

Kyle tried to start ignoring him again, and, strangely enough, they traveled for a time in silence. Cartman actually hummed for a bit, and Kyle couldn't help but think that something must seriously be wrong if Cartman was in such a good mood.

"So, Kahl, Ah bet you still need to get caught up with what was happening during the summer, hmm?" Cartman said. Kyle shrugged, but didn't say anything. Was he interested? …maybe… He hadn't really asked Stan about anything, but then again, he hadn't had that much time to just hang out with Stan lately either.

Cartman was waiting for an answer, watching him expectantly. Kyle was sure that whatever Cartman had in mind was hinged on what his answer would be at that moment. He wavered a bit, but something, curiosity?, pushed him.

"So… what happened?" Kyle muttered finally, staring ahead and trying to not think about the fact that he was getting into a conversation with Cartman. He'd been avoiding the overweight teen ever since he'd gotten back, but good luck couldn't last forever.

"Ah thought you'd never ask, Kahl." Cartman grinned widely, and Kyle felt his spirits drop. There was definitely going to be something he didn't want to hear in this conversation. Cartman launched happily into his recount of all the happenings among the teens of South Park. Kyle barely listened, only nodding his head every now and then to show he was still paying attention.

"And Bebe moved out to California, about fucking time, Ah don't think anyone could stand her any longer… Let's see, Ah know that punk haired bitch that's always in detention was hitting on Stan all summer, he couldn't get rid of her…" Cartman continued, on and on, and Kyle was starting to get a comfortable haze in his mind, his head nodding automatically at regular intervals. It was getting close to eleven. He had to get home, he really didn't have time to be listening to Cartman yak about whatever stupid shit happened during the summer. He opened his mouth, ready to interrupt him, when something Cartman said made him stop. His mind tuned in fully to what Cartman was saying.

"So Ah think the thing is that Kenneh just got tired of us, cause he started hanging out with Butters more," Cartman continued, but Kyle felt his entire center grow cold. His shoulders stiffened, but he just grunted as Cartman continued.

He really shouldn't be so interested in this.

"But you know, just between us, Ah think there's something more going on there, if you know what Ah mean," Cartman said, winking at Kyle, Then his expression changed to one of half-disgust, half-incredulity. "But, Ah mean, _Butters_? Ah don't know what the hell Kenneh's thinking. Whateveh, he's got weird tastes. What do you think? You think there's anything going on there?"

"Why are you asking me?" Kyle asked stiffly, keeping his eyes straight ahead. He could feel Cartman's eyes on him, and a prickly feeling starting crawling up his back.

"Well Kahl, Ah just thought that since you and Kenneh were all gay for each other, you'd know if Butters was his type, but, then again, you two aren't 'together' anymore, so maybe you don't." Cartman laughed. "Gahd, Butters, why? But he did go for you, so Ah guess it shouldn't be that much of a surprise."

Kyle was rooted to the sidewalk. Amazingly, at a moment like this, the only thing he could think of was that it took Cartman almost half an hour of talking about nothing to put his plan in motion. Half an hour of getting Kyle into such a state of disinterest, lulling him into a false state of security, in order to smack him in the face with… with _that_.

Kyle gritted his teeth, bit back the harsh retort that had been rising in his throat, and decided to act like he was totally clueless.

"What are you talking about?" He said, looking at Cartman as if he was crazy. Yes, good look.

Cartman didn't look convinced.

"Come on, Kahl, Ah know all about it," Cartman said, sighing. "You could at least have the balls to admit it, douche."

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," Kyle said, letting just a bit of his anger show. Cartman grinned in success at that slip.

"Sure you don't, Kahl. Look, Ah get it, all right? You just wanted to try something new, and yeah, Kenneh seems like a pretty good choice for it. Whatever." Cartman said, nodding. "You coulda told the guy it was just a one time thing, you know. Worked his poor boy ass off all summer with two jobs, guess he wanted to do something nice for you when you got back."

Kyle wasn't letting the words get to him. He was not. He wasn't.

"Yeah, whatever. Seems like Butters actually likes him, tho…" Cartman grimaced for a moment, fixing Kyle with a half-disgusted look. "Gahd, when did you all go fucking homo on me? Fuck, you're a pussy, Kyle, but Ah thought at least you'd stay straight. Stan's emo-fag most of the time, he's the one who should be chasing guy-ass."

Kyle took a deep breath to steady himself, surprised to find that he was unsteady to begin with, and turned to walk away. Cartman looked after him, and Kyle swore he could feel the amusement that was definitely on the other teens face.

"You won't even admit it, Kahl? Gahd, maybe you _are_ a closet-case." Cartman laughed. "Maybe its better, you should just forget all about it, Kahl. Especially if you're just gonna fuck people over like you did with Kenneh. Guess he was too poor for the Jew, huh?"

Kyle clenched his fists even tighter in his jacket pockets, ignoring it when one of his hands brushed against an object. He couldn't hear him, couldn't hear him. Cartman's voice was nothing but white noise, it was fading, he couldn't hear it. Fuck, Fuck, he shouldn't be getting affected by this. Kenny didn't affect him anymore. No, Kenny and Butters didn't bother him. Didn't bother him at all. Cartman was still talking behind him, but he couldn't hear him. Couldn't, couldn't.

"Whatever, Kyle, Ah gotta go. Later, Jewboy." Cartman was gone, mission accomplished. Kyle found himself seething in the cool night air, imagining just what he'd do to him when he got him alone. He stalked onward alone, in the dark, trying to steer his thoughts away from what Cartman had said.

"Kyle, you're late."

Kyle jerked to a stop for the second time that night. Ike stood on the sidewalk ahead of him, watching him suspiciously. Kyle grimaced, pushing past him and heading onwards towards his house. His brother followed, and Kyle could feel Ike's eyes on the back of his head.

"I was going to tell Mom and Dad you were out this late," Ike said sharply. Kyle narrowed his eyes, looking at nothing. "You're lucky I didn't."

"I'm sure I am." Kyle growled, and heard Ike chuckle lightly behind him. He resisted the urge to turn around and punch the younger boy; it wouldn't do good to get in trouble for that again.

The walk home wasn't that long, but it was silent and definitely was too long for comfort. Kyle resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he pushed open the front door, just like he resisted slamming it back just as Ike started walking through.

"Kie-yole, is that you?" Sheila bustled out of the living room, wearing a dark red robe and looking as if she had just gotten out of bed. "Where have you been?"

"Kyle and I were just taking a walk, Mom." Ike called out as he took his shoes off. Kyle shot him a hard look, but Ike grinned at him in a way that made him want to choke the boy.

"Oh, well, that's all right, but next time try to get back a little earlier, boys, its not good to be wandering around this late at night," Shiela said, coming over to give them each a kiss on the cheek before heading up the stiars. "Good night, go get some sleep now."

"We will Mom." Ike answered her again as Kyle wiped his sleeve across his cheek. He waited until he heard his parent's bedroom door close before heading up, jacket and shoes still on. Ike said something about not getting the carpets dirty, but he ignored him, taking the steps up two at a time. He shut his bedroom door, locking it behind him, and tossed his hat and jacket somewhere near the computer chair. Moving across the floor, he toed aside all the clothes he'd worn that week and climbed across his bed to turn on the bedside lamp. Sitting back on it, he kicked off his shoes and stared around at the mess of his room. The only thing not covered in something else was the laptop on his desk, the standby light on it pulsing slowly and steadily.

He sighed, but that didn't help relieve the turmoil of feelings swirling around inside of him. Shit. He'd managed to stay calm for so long, and then Cartman had to come and fuck it all up. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow, history test that he didn't study for. Math homework due, done. Tomorrow. Tomorrow…

He couldn't focus. His eyes opened to the dark ceiling of his room. There was a sock hanging on one of the paddles of his ceiling fan. How the hell did he get a sock up there?

He rolled out of bed and onto the floor, pausing a moment to stare at his door. He'd heard Ike walking to his room a little earlier, and everything was quiet in the hallway outside. Crouching down, he lifted the edge of his covers and pulled out a few boxes of Hot Wheels cars and some Legos, a lab microscope in its plastic box, and some nunchuks. Reaching out behind them, he slid out a battered shoebox. It was tied shut with shoelaces, nothing else having been available at the time. He stared down at it for a moment, his fingers toying with the laces a bit. His breath was coming a little fast, and he swallowed, hard. His fingers moved over to the edge of the box, he could feel the roughness at the edge of the lid.

The smell of smoke came to him, suddenly, and his eyes narrowed. Gripping the box in his hands, he stood up, walking purposely to the door of his room. Slowly opening it, he crept out into the dark hallway, creeping down the stairs and back to the kitchen. Opening the back door, which was a lot quieter than the front one, he walked out into the moonlit backyard. The cold of the ground seeped through his socks, but he ignored it, heading towards the garbage can standing by the side of the garage. The wind was still whipping around him, and his hair was in his face more often than not.

The lid of the garbage can came off. He stood, holding the box in both hands, poised to drop it into the can.

He was decided. He _had_ to be decided. There couldn't be any turning back.

There _was_ no turning back.


	5. Little Box o Secrets

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

BLAH BLAH BLAH

Sorry, no Kenny this chapter. I'm sorry Kennylover98 ;; forgive me!

But there is Stan, and there is Butters.

And… yeah… read and enjoy.

**Thanks to:**

**Kenylover98**

**Ren85**

**xL4stBr3ath**

**Tweeky Kinz**

**Bee Bop **

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Stan looked curiously at the beat-up shoe box in his hands, wondering what was inside. Definitely not shoes, those were way heavier than whatever it was inside the box. He shook it, feeling the weight of the objects inside shift. The box wasn't very heavy at all, and the near-quiet shush-shush that accompanied his shaking made him decide that it was papers in the box, or something like papers.

Hmm.

His fingers moved along the edge of the cover as he thought, but he frowned. No, Kyle had trusted him. He'd trusted him, his best friend, to do what he asked him to do. That's right, and he made him swear he wouldn't open the box. He was going to take it to that half-buried log on the east side of Stark's Pond, and he was going to burn it, just like Kyle had asked him to. Right. That's what he was going to do.

He wondered why Kyle didn't do it himself, but he guessed it had something to do with the way Ike was following him around like a little leech. He hadn't given Kyle any peace for the last 5 days.

Stan sighed, turning the shoebox over and over in his hands. That's right. He'd keep his word. He'd burn it, like Kyle wanted him to. Yup.

But… why did Kyle want it burned? Why not just throw it away? Stan frowned again, looking back down at the box. It must be something he really didn't want falling into the wrong hands if he wanted it burned. Stan remembered that one day not too long ago when he'd come over to Kyle's house and found Gerald Broflovski digging through the garbage can. When Stan had asked him what he was doing, he'd answered he'd been looking for his glasses that he accidentally threw out. He hadn't sounded very… convincing.

Well, if this was something that Kyle didn't want his parents to find…

Stan stopped, halfway in his trek to Stark's Pond, and stared down at the box. Nah. Nah, it couldn't be what he was thinking. He shook his head, half-grinned down at the box and the world around him. The street was empty; his eyes shot back to the box in his hands.

It couldn't…

…could it?

He peeked out of the corners of his eyes to each side, although he knew he was alone on the road. Slowly, carefully, he untied the shoelaces that held the cover to the box. With held breath, he slid a finger under the rim of the cover and lifted it up. Holding the box up to eye level, he peeked inside.

His eyes widened. He lifted his head, looking around shakily. Was it? He peeked back inside, mouthing words, then dropped the cover, hurriedly tying the shoelaces back in place around the box.

Oh my god.

He gripped it to his chest tightly, struggling to remember an address he never had a reason to remember before this time.

Ohmygodohmygod…

The address came to him, and he took off running, a half-triumphant, half-shocked smile on his face. Ha. HA! Screw setting anything on fire today. That could wait. Besides, besides, he'd never told Kyle _when_ he'd be setting it on fire, so it was fine.

And, you know, that little part about him promising not to look inside?

Yeah, Stan didn't remember it either… honestly…

It took him a good while to get to where he was going, the house he was heading for being all the way across town from where he was, but he ran all the way, adrenaline pumping through him. Leaning against the wall of the house, he rang the doorbell, and stood waiting, gasping for breath. Finally, he heard the sound of multiple locks being turned, and the door inched open. Blue eyes peered through the opening for a moment before the door opened wider.

"Stan?"

"Oh my god, Butters, let me in!" Stan staggered forwards towards the door, and Butters stepped back, a shocked look crossing his face. As soon as Stan stepped inside Butters closed the door, turning all the locks on it before looking at Stan.

"S-stan, are you all right?" Butters acted nervously, watching Stan closely.

"I'm… I'm fine." Stan said, waving a hand at Butters's concern. "I'm fine, Butters, listen.. This… its the key!"  
"What… key?" Butters eyed the box Stan was holding curiously. "What do you mean, the key?"

"This, THIS, is going to tell us everything we need to know…" Stan grinned, looking around. "Your parent's aren't home?"

"No, they're out shoppin'…" Butters said, eyeing the locks on the door tiredly. He sighed, then turned back to Stan. "So…"

"Come on, let's go to your room," Stan said, heading off towards the stairs. Butters followed, frowning thoughtfully, but waited until they were in his room, with the door closed, before speaking.

"Okay, Stan, what do you got in there that's so important?" Butters asked, sitting on his bed. Stan sat down on the floor, looking up at Butters with a serious look.

"This, Butters, is going to solve all our problems…" Stan put the box on the floor. Butters stared at it for a moment, then looked at Stan, his eyes bright.

"Is, is it a time travel device?" He asked in awe. Stan frowned, looking at him.

"No, its not a…" He stopped, looking back down at the box. "Or maybe…"

"What is it?" Butters asked, sliding off the bed and onto the floor opposite Stan.

Stan looked at him for a long moment, grinning, then reached out and opened the box. Butters leaned over, twisting his head slightly to get a better look.

"June 6th… Dear Kenny… Ah was going to send out the p-previous let-…" Butters's voice trailed off, and he looked up at Stan, eyes wide. When he spoke, it was in a whisper. "S-stan… these… these are…"

"They're letters, Butters… _letters_ from Kyle to Kenny…" Stan said excitedly, his eyes shining. Butters was giving him a scared look, and his face had gone pale. "Butters, this is the key! See?"

"Stan… Ah… Ah don't think we should be lookin' at these…" Butters leaned back, shaking his head. Stan frowned at him.

"Don't you see? We can read these and find out what happened!" Stan said, but Butters didn't look convinced. "Butters, look, obviously these are letters that Kyle never got to send out. Do you understand? Look how many there are, he must've been writing one, like, each day or something!"

"Stan… how did you get this?" Butters asked evenly, looking straight at Stan as he started taking letters out of the box.

"What? Oh, Kyle asked me to get rid of it for him… burn it or something…" Stan said, shrugging as if it didn't matter much.

"Kyle asked you t-to burn it? And you're r-readin' it instead?" Butters sputtered, almost in disbelief. "But… but he's your best friend…"

"And he's doing some shitty stuff, all right?" Stan looked up at Butters, his eyes hard. "And I want to know _why_ he's doing shitty stuff… Because I can't figure it out…"

He sighed, dropping the letters in his hands on the floor, and leaned across the box towards Butters. The blond looked nervous, kept trying to look away but couldn't. Stan held his gaze for a long time, and it wasn't until Butters started fidgeting that he began to talk.

"Listen, Butters, you want to help Kenny, right? And you know that Kenny wants to be with Kyle, right?" Butters nodded, slowly. "Look, I'm not entirely sure about this, but I get the feeling that Kyle wants to be with Kenny too, but something's not letting him…"

"H-his parents…" Butters muttered, and Stan nodded.

"Yeah, but there has to be more to it. There has to be something that they have that made Kyle so scared that he'd totally break off with Kenny. Its not like Kyle to give up like that without a fight." Stan shook his head, sitting back. "There has to be some reason. And these letters are going to tell us everything we need to know."

Stan looked at Butters. The blond was staring down at the box, biting his lip and looking painfully thoughtful. After a moment he sighed, and turned his eyes back to Stan.

"You really think this'll help them?" Butters asked, sounding defeated already.

"I know it will, Butters," Stan said, with as much conviction as he could muster. After a moment Butters nodded, and Stan grinned. "You'll see, it'll be tons easier to figure out stuff now."  
"Yeah, but… do we have'ta pry into personal things…" Butters said, reaching out slowly to pick up a letter off the pile inside of the box. Stan grimaced.

"They're… they're not personal anymore, Butters… Kyle… gave them away, so they aren't…" Stan said, grabbing a few letters. Butters unfolded the one he was holding, but his eyes traveled towards Stan.

"…you really think that?" Butters asked. Stan ignored his gaze, trying to skim over the letter in his hand instead.

"I… Well…" Stan shoved back the morals that were rapidly rising from the back of his brain to smack him and clenched his jaw. "Just read the damn letters, Butters."

* * *

It was hours later, Butters's parents already having come back and gone to sleep. Not before thoroughly interviewing Stan as to why he was there, of course. Stan had forgotten just how annoying the Stotch's were. Whatever. They were finding out some interesting things from the letters. Some… very interesting things…

"Damn… I didn't know Kyle was so fucking… horny…" Stan said, staring down at the letter in his hands.

"Uh, Stan… that… Ah made a little pile for those kinda letters over here…" Butters said, and Stan nodded in response. "Uh, Stan…? Are… are you just goin' ta keep on reading' it?"

"Wh…what? What?" Stan jerked his eyes away from the letter, cleared his throat. "Uh, no, no… I was… just skimming it, you know… just in case there was something… something important in it…"

He folded the letter up hurriedly and tossed it on the small pile of letters to the left of the box. His eyes lingered on it for a moment; damn, but Kyle could get descriptive. Ugh. Kyle… and he was writing that to Kenny. _Kyle_ and _Kenny_. Remember.

Ugh.

Stan felt Butters's eyes on him, and transferred his gaze to the other, larger pile of letters, trying to ignore the fact that the longer Butters looked at him, the more his cheeks started to burn. God, but he was a loser. Clearing his throat again, he picked up the large, uh, _safe_, pile of letters and started flipping through them.

"Okay, let's see… Let's arrange these by date…" Stan said, still not looking at the blonde. Shoving aside the box and the other letters, Stan began putting the ones in his hand down in a line on the floor. "This one is the earliest… then this one…"

Butters looked on as Stan laid the letters out according to their dates. The two sat there, staring at the letters for a little while.

"It… it doesn't feel right…" Butters said quietly, looking up at Stan.

"What do you mean?" Stan asked, looking at him. Butters opened his mouth, then shut it, looking back down at the letters before answering.

"Allright… see, this first letter is okay, it sounds… like it should…" Butters said, pointing at it. His finger moved to each letter as he talked about it. "Boy, there sure is a lot, but… but look, these are all ones where he sounds like he's fightin' 'gainst whatever they're tryin' to make him do… And then this one sounds like he's givin' in a little, right?"

Stan nodded, kept watching as Butters continued.

"Then these he sounds like he's getting' back to fightin' them, and then these he sounds a little weaker in…" Butters kept going on.

"But, that's pretty normal. I mean, everyone has times when they start doubting what they're doing." Stan interrupted, looking at Butters. The blond kept his eyes on the letters, thoughtful.

"Sure, but…" His finger moved across to the second to the last letter. "THIS one, he sounds like he's ready to take on the world, what with the "They'll never tell me what to do." and "I swear I'll be with you, nothin's going to change that." He sounds so… scary in it, but, like… like he exactly knows what he wants…"

Stan nodded, remembering that letter. They'd both read it over a few times; it was definitely a powerful display of devotion. So weird, though.

"But then this last one…" Butters paused for a moment. "This last one, Stan… it… it sounds exactly like what he told Kenny when he got back."  
The blond lifted his eyes from the letter to look at Stan finally.

"Everythin', everythin' Stan… "I know what I said, but things change"… "I don't want to lose you as a friend" … "I'm sorry it has to end like this" …" Butters stopped, looking back down at the letter. Stan stayed silent for a moment, thinking it over. The jump of emotions from one letter to another was so huge…

"You… you think they got to him…?" He asked finally, staring at the paper below Butters's finger. It would seem the most likely thing to have happened…

"…probably…" Butters said, but he didn't sound convinced. "There's… there's just one problem, Stan…"

"What?" Stan asked, frowning.

"The last letter before this one is dated two weeks earlier…" Butters said, sitting back. "Kyle was writin' a letter almost everyday before that… Ah don't think that he'd skip two weeks like that after he'd gotten into the habit of writin' these… Ah mean, they were more like a journal after a while then real letters…"

"So… you're saying…" Stan stopped, staring down at the letters.

"Ah… Ah think we're missin' two weeks here…" Butters said, "And Ah think those were the weeks we really needed to know about…"

Stan continued to stare at the letters for a long time, then groaned.

"FU-UCK!" Stan dropped his head into his hands. "Fuck, and he didn't say anything about what was happening in those other letters either… except that his family was being a bunch of fucking retards…"

Butters sighed, starting to gather up the letters. Stan lifted his head, watching as the blond put the two stacks of letters into the box and covered it.

"Do… do you think he did write something in those two weeks…?" Stan asked. Butters looked at the box thoughtfully.

"Ah think he did…" The blonde shook his head. "Either he got rid of them before, or…"

"Or what?" Stan asked. Butters looked at him evenly.

"Or he didn't trust you as much as you think he did…" Butters said, and Stan frowned. Not trust him? Of course Kyle trusted him, Kyle trusted him with _everything_…

Everything, that is, except…

"Fuck. He didn't trust me." Stan said in disbelief. "The asshole actually didn't trust me! He wouldn't tell me himself what happened, and now he took out the letters that would have explained everything… and… dammit!"

"Sorry for sayin' this, Stan, but… Ah think he was right this one time…" Butters said, motioning towards the box. Stan growled slamming a fist into the carpet beneath him.

"Dammit! We're never going to figure this out…" Stan glared at the box, at the stupid, fucking box. Dammit. It was supposed to be the key. It was supposed to have the answers. Why didn't it?

"So… what do we do now?" Butters asked, wringing his hands almost subconsciously. Stan sighed, shaking his head.

"You'll have to keep the box, Butters." Stan said, and his eyes were met with the wide, shocked eyes of the blond.

"W-what?! Stan, n-no, if my parents find this, oh boy, its goin' to be trouble for sure, Ah can't keep this here, no way…" Butters shook his head, but Stan looked at him sternly.

"Butters, there's no way I can take it with me. What if Kyle comes over and starts snooping? I wouldn't put it past him at this point…" Stan said, but Butters kept shaking his head.

"No, no, you should just t-take it, and, and burn it, like you were supposed to!" Butters said, giving Stan a hard look. They stared each other down for a minute, but after a while Butters looked away, focusing somewhere else in the room. Stan paused for a moment, thinking he saw something… else… in the blonde's eyes, but then continued with what he'd been about to say.

"Butters, keep it somewhere where your parents _won't_ find it… these letters might come in handy later on…" Stan began to tie the shoelaces around the box, feeling Butters's gaze on him. After a moment he looked up, wondering if the blonde was still going to argue. Butters looked at him with such a despondent look of resignation that Stan almost took back what he'd said and offered to hide the box himself. Before he could, Butters had reached out and taken the box from him.

"All right, Stan… Ah'll keep it somewhere safe…" Butters sighed, but looked at Stan with a small smile.

"Remember, this is our secret," Stan said, and Butters laughed lightly.

"Yeah, our secret…" Butters responded, smiling a little more this time.

Stan wanted to speak, but suddenly found himself with the strange sensation of not knowing _how_ to speak anymore. Something at the back of his chest was making it hard to breathe, but he shook it off, deciding it was residue from reading those letter he really shouldn't have been reading. He shouldn't have, really. They were more…personal… than he'd have liked them to be. And why did he have to get so interested in them anyway…? Ugh… his head was getting that pang that it liked to get right before his stomach decided to revolt, so he stood up quickly, forcing the thoughts out of his head.

"All right, I should get going back home." He said, then noticed the clock on the desk. "Shit, its past 11 already? Dude, you should've told me, I didn't mean to keep you up that late…"

Butters stood up, shrugging slightly, not really meeting his eyes.

"Its all right… I didn't mind…" He finally looked at Stan face on, and sighed. "Ah'll come let you out, my dad probably locked the door tight again…"

"Sure…" Stan followed Butters quietly down the hallway and stairs, and waited patiently while Butters unlocked all 6 of the heavy duty bolts on the door. Stepping out, he turned back to grin at the blonde.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," He said, and Butters grinned.

"All right…" Butters said, then added after a pause added, "Have a good night."

"You too," Stan turned and started towards his house. The stars were shining brightly, but he could see the dark outline of clouds off to the west. The forecasters had been predicting rain for a long time, and it seemed it was finally going to come.

Sighing, Stan stared up at the sky. His progress was slow, his thoughts everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He was still feeling a little nauseas, but not in that bad way… if that made any sense.

He grimaced, closing his eyes.

Fuck. He didn't understand anything any more.


	6. Moving On

-1Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

KENNY CHAPTER DEDIMACATED TO KENNYLOVER98!!!! O: WOOOOW!

Um… get ready… to… hate? OOH I LIKE PUBS! Someone give me a GUINESS. Hahaha… XD I die.

**Thanks to:**

**Kennylover98**

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**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Kenny turned the key in the lock, pulling on the handle of the door to make sure that it wouldn't open. The streetlamp in front of the store flickered, the pool of light it cast shivering in the cold night air. Stuffing the store's keys in his jeans pocket, Kenny turned and started down the street. It had been a long night, one filled with complaining customers and people who'd take the price tags off so they could try to get a better deal.

Oh, and yeah, Ike had been there too. Kenny grimaced at the thought, wondering what it was the boy was after. He'd spent 15 minutes wandering around the store, staring at Kenny every now and again, before finally settling on getting a single pack of gum. No words, nothing, not even a hello or goodbye. Just those dark eyes, staring at him like they were trying to take him apart.

Kenny shuddered, he didn't know when it'd happened, but fuck, Ike had turned into one creepy kid. Damien, yeah, from Omen. Or, you know, from _Hell_.

He snickered at the thought, but it was kinda scary, yeah, how he got the same the same freaky feeling from the two of them. Well, both of them DID know more than they let on, he guessed. And both of them had that look like they were trying to figure out the secrets of the unknown. Hell, they were both _weird_, and that was that.

A sudden burst of noise ahead of him stopped him in his tracks, and he looked up to see the greasy looking door of Pete's Pub slam shut, cutting off the voices and blaring TVs. He walked up to it, leaned over to look through the dirty window on the side. He thought he'd heard a familiar voice… Peering past the buzzing neon letters, he finally located the beat up red trucker hat among the crowd at the bar.

Stepping back, he searched through his pockets, coming up with two weathered dollar bills. Biting his lip, he looked into the window again, considering his odds. Sure, he might get lucky, but there was also always the chance he'd not only lose the two dollars, but get sent home with a black eye and a kick to the pants.

Hmm.

Ah well, you don't know until you try.

With that, he pulled open the pub's door, wincing at the volume of the voices and TVs, and went inside. The pub was just one large room, with pool tables at the far end, and a few TVs set up above the bar. Said TVs were playing reruns of the days greatest sports moments, and roars of laughter or curses met each replayed moment.

Sliding past a pair of drunks gambling a really bad game of poker and some cigar puffers attempting to look intellectual by playing an equally bad game of chess on one of the pub's ages old chipped chess board table, Kenny made his way across the pub floor. Most of the late-night crowd was centered around the bar, and their voices mingled into one loud buzz that got louder or quieter, depending on what was being shown on the TV screens.

Inside, finding the red trucker hat actually became harder, and Kenny had to push and shove his way past a good amount of people before finally ending up where he wanted to be.

"Fu-uck…" He growled, finally grabbing a hold of the bar edge so he wouldn't be shoved away. "Dad, hey, Dad…"

McCormick senior turned a bleary-eyed gaze on him, frowning.

"What the hell ya doin' here boy?" Stuart leaned back in his seat, still sober enough to keep from having to hold onto the bar too much, and glared at his son. "Ain't ya suppos'ta be workin' or sumtin?"

"Its twelve, Dad, I finished already." Kenny said, wondering if his dad was drunk enough or not.

"Twelf already? Shit, ah was suppos'ta be back home… yer mudder's not gonna be happy…" Stuart laughed slapping a hand on the bar top.

"Just tell her you were working late or something…" Kenny said, trying not to grin. Stuart gave him as hard a look as he could manage at the moment, and Kenny pulled back a little. Fuck, you could never be too careful.

"Whatchu want, boy?" The older man asked, leaning forward a little and eyeing Kenny suspiciously.

"Nothing, Dad, just wanted to say hi…" Fuck, not drunk enough.

"Jus' wanted to say 'hi', huh?" Stuart didn't sound convinced, and Kenny tried to look as innocent as he could. "Boy, ah don't got enuff monny to be buyin' shit for mahself and here ya are, trying to make laik ya weren't gonna be askin' me for a drink…"

"I got money," Kenny said, putting the two dollar bills on the bar. Stuart didn't look at them, but the hard gaze he'd had turned shrewd. This was the moment, Kenny though, this was the moment when he found out whether it had been worth the risk.

Stuart put his hand on the two dollars…

Kenny held his breath…

"Jimmy, get me two Daniel's…" Stuart slid the bills over to the other side of the bar. Kenny let out the breath he'd been holding, relaxing for the first time since he'd stepped in through the door. The barkeeper took two bottles out of the cooler and walked over, stopping when he saw Kenny.

"Stuart, ya know I don't sell to minors…" Jimmy said, the bottles poised to be set on the bar top.

"Ya ain't sellin' to a minor, Jimmy, yer selling ta me…" Stuart tapped the dollar bills. "And what ah do wit' ma beers's ma own bus'ness, right?"

"That's right, Stuart," Jimmy nodded, setting the bottles down and scooping the dollar bills up in one motion. He turned around, and Stuart grabbed the bottles, giving Kenny a conspiratorial look.

"If yer mudder finds out 'bout this, boy…" Stuart began, his voice holding just a hint of threat. Kenny tried not to grin, kept his face as serious as he could get it at the moment.

"Don't worry, Dad, she won't…" Kenny affirmed. Stuart eyed him a moment longer, then grunted and shoved the bottles at him.

"Now git outta here, boy, and I dun wanna see yer face in here again, or there'll be hell, understand?" Stuart lifted a hand, and Kenny nodded hurriedly, already pushing away from the bar.

"Yeah, Dad, I understand…" He left as quickly as he could, shoving past the crowd and slipping between the tables. Once outside, he shoved the bottles in the large pockets of his hoodie and started down the street again, trying to think of the perfect spot to camp out for the rest of the night. The alleys he passed seemed promising, but… garbage day was two days away, and that fact alone was enough to make him reconsider. In that case, any spot inside the main area of the town wasn't good.

"Goddamit, Kenneh…"

What the fuck? He turned around in the direction of the muttered growl to find Cartman heading towards him across the sidewalk. He looked… pissy. Kenny waited for him to catch up, grinning slightly.

"What the hell are you doing out this late, Cartman?" He asked as the larger boy finally stopped next to him.

"Ah was trying to find you, dipshit." Cartman growled back. He looked tired, and angry, and an angry and tired Cartman wasn't, in general, a good Cartman. Not that Cartman was a good Cartman ever, really.

"Me? What for?" Kenny asked, feeling his defenses creeping up. Cartman, looking for him, in the middle of the night didn't sound like it would end good. "Cartman, I don't care how bad you need the money, I'm not going to die just so you could sell my organs on the black market… fuck, they probably won't want them anyways, so-"

"Shut the fuck up, Kenneh, that's not why Ah'm here…" Cartman glared at him, then grabbed Kenny's arm roughly and started pulling him down the sidewalk.

"Then what the fuck is it this time? Some other diabolical plan to make millions? Something that involves me doing death-defying stunts?" Kenny asked bitterly. Dammit, he'd just managed to get some beer, and now it looked like he wasn't even going to get the the chance to drink it. What a fucking waste of two dollars.

"Kenneh, I wanted to talk to you before tomorrow." Cartman said, actually sounding… serious. That only made Kenny even more suspicious.

"Yeah, well, you know, I _was_ at work for a shitload of hours, you could've just talked to me there." Kenny said. Cartman shook his head, not loosening his grip on Kenny's arm.

"People, Kenneh, people…" Cartman sighed, stopping. Kenny turned to face him.

"Cartman, what… what. Just, what." Kenny eyed him curiously.

"First off, Kenneh…" Cartman looked like he was steeling himself for something. "First off… Ah know… shit, Ah know about you and Kahl."

"What?" Kenny spat, nearly choking on the word. Cartman… Cartman knew? He fucking knew?!

"Look, whatever, Kenneh, allright? Yeah, okay, it happened, I found out, whatever." Cartman brought his hands up defensively. Kenny stared at him in disbelief. Shit, how many other people knew then?

"How the fuck did you find out?" Kenny growled, "And who'd you fucking tell? I know you told someone, Cartman…"

"I didn't tell anyone, Kenneh!" Cartman growled back.

"Bullshit! What the hell are you planning?!" Kenny glared at him, seething. There had to be a plan involved.

"Nothing, Kenneh, Ah'm not planning anything…" Cartman glared back at him. "Ah don't give a fuck Kenneh, and Ah didn't tell you anything before because Ah didn't think it was worth it, allright?"

"I don't believe that shit, you just didn't say anything so you can put your fucking plan into motion, you were just waiting for a fucking opportune moment, you ass, now tell me, what the fuck are you planning?" Kenny grabbed Cartman by the shoulders, fingers clenching in the fabric of his jacket. Cartman's hands gripped his wrists, but he didn't try to pull them off.

"Kyle's going out with someone." Cartman said quietly. Kenny stared at him, his mind being forced to jump tracks.

"…what?" He said, or rather, breathed, not being able to put much force behind the word. His fingers were twitching, and suddenly he felt as if his legs were losing feeling, as if Cartman's hands on his wrists were the only things holding him up.

"Ah wanted to tell you that before you saw them at school tomorrow." Cartman continued in that quiet voice, his face still expressionless. Kenny tried to glare, that didn't work, so he tried to frown, and when that failed, he tried to look unaffected, but that was totally ruined by the fact that he was now leaning heavily on Cartman in order not to go stumbling around like an idiot.

"Wha… but, wait… who? Who?" Kenny managed to sputter out.

"Rebecca… that girl that's the secretary of the Student Council…" Cartman said. Kenny tried to respond, but all he could manage was a sorta-grunt in the back of his throat. He let go of Cartman's shoulders, pulling away to look helplessly at the world around him.

Of course, of-fucking-course. A perfect match. It makes sense. Smart people belong with smart people, after all. Yeah. Yeah, that's how life is.

"Kenneh…?" Cartman asked, and Kenny turned back to face him. He saw Cartman eye the bottles in his pockets before looking back at him.

"Ah got more at mah house…" Cartman offered, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

Kenny stared at him for a long moment, his thoughts whirling sluggishly in his head.

He really didn't want to think about anything anymore.

"Sounds like a plan…"

* * *

Kenny had spent the entire day trying to condition himself. He'd stared as much as possible, so that he could get used to the sight, but it didn't work. Each time Kyle would touch her, something twisted inside him. Each time she smiled at the redhead and patted his cheek, he felt his teeth clench. Each time they meandered down the hallways, their fingers intertwined, he was forced to stop and look somewhere else to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

Now he stood at the window at the edge of the hallway, staring out across the schoolyard. It was empty, everyone still in their last period classes. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, trying to come to terms with what he'd been seeing all day.

It was _over_.

He'd known that, he had. Ever since Kyle had told him, in that calm voice of his, he'd known. But he hadn't, you know, _known_. Not really. Some stupid part of him had thought that maybe, just maybe, it was all a trick. Some sort of play that was being put on. That one day he'd wake up, and go to school, and Kyle would be there waiting for _him_, and telling him that it was all a joke, and that he really did still love him, and that he really still did want to be with him.

It had been such a deep hope, such a hidden part of him that had been thinking that that he hadn't really realized it, hadn't realized that he still had it.

Whatever. It was gone now. Every part of him knew now. There wasn't any going back. There wasn't any happy ending to this story. Not everyone was lucky their first time around.

"Kenny?"

He didn't turn to face Butters, tried not even to realize he was there because he knew what conversation would be started if he did. In the silence that followed he heard Butters step closer, saw his face reflected in the glass next to his as the other blonde leaned on the windowsill.

"Shit happens." Kenny said finally, sighing. Butters looked at him, tilting his head only slightly.

"Kenny, this doesn't have ta mean that…" Butters voice trailed off. He'd been supportive of Kenny keeping his hopes up, but there didn't seem much that he could do at this point.

"It does, Butters. Whatever…" Kenny muttered.

The bell rang behind them. Doors began opening and students were pouring out into the halls. The noise didn't seem to reach Kenny where he stood at the window, he couldn't hear it really. Butters sighed, crossing his arms on the sill and dropping his chin onto them. Kenny glanced at him, frowning.

"You've been quiet lately, something wrong?" He asked.

"Nah, everythin's fine…" Butters said, staring out somewhere beyond the glass.

"You're thinking about him, hm?" Kenny asked, grinning softly. Butters shrugged, but didn't respond. Kenny sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Butters, just give it a try… there's no way in hell you can end up as bad as I did…" He laughed, but Butters only gave him a fleeting look before turning back to the window.

"Its allright, Kenny. Ah'll just see what life decides ta do…" He responded. Kenny shook his head, turning away from the window.

"I'll see you later, Butters…" He said, looking around the hallway.

"Where're you goin', Kenny?" Butters asked, puzzled.

"Well, you know, now that I'm sure about things, I figured the most civil thing I can do is congratulate him," Kenny said, and although he tried to keep the bitterness out of his following words, he didn't do too well. "I mean, she's quite a catch, pretty _and_ smart… I'm sure his mother approves…"

Butters turned all the way around to face him, giving him a disbelieving look, and after a moment Kenny dropped the cheesy grin he'd adopted and sighed.

"Its just something I need to do," He said, "Its, like, the first step I need to get past so I can move on."

"Do ya really want to move on, Kenny?" Butters asked quietly, and Kenny looked away.

"That's not…that's not important here," He said finally, then cleared his throat. He looked back at Butters, grin in place. "And that's that. I'll see ya."

"Bye, Kenny." Butters said, but he didn't sound convinced.

Kenny left him there, and headed on down the hallway, and stairs, to the first floor entrance. Once outside he staked out a spot by the stair rail and waited.

It wasn't long before Kyle and Rebecca made their way down the steps. As any couple did, they'd most likely wasted some time hanging on each other by their lockers in order to avoid the mad rush that usually accompanied the end-of-school bell.

Ignoring whatever long goodbye things there were doing, and pointedly looking away during it, Kenny waited until Rebecca was a good way down the sidewalk before standing up and walking over to where Kyle stood, rearranging some things in his backpack.

"Hey Kyle." Kenny said, keeping a smile on his face. The redhead jerked around, looking at him with a major amount of surprise and shock. He didn't even put the book he'd been pulling out of his backpack down, even though it was sticking halfway out. Of course, Kenny couldn't blame him. They hadn't talked to each other in over a month and a half, and there last conversation hadn't gone well, to put it mildly.

"Hey… Kenny…" Kyle finally put the book back in his back pack, watching the blonde warily.

"I heard you were going out with Rebecca, and I just wanted to say good luck, you know, she's a really good girl, and yeah… just hope everything works out good for you," Kenny managed to say while still smiling. Granted, he was trying hard not to actually think about what he was saying, but it was still an accomplishment.

Kyle, who had looked utterly surprised that Kenny had even started talking to him, had reached a stage of astonishment that was rarely reached by anyone. His mouth dropped open just a little, his eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment, and it seemed like he wouldn't be finding his voice for a while.

"So, yeah… See ya." Kenny said, as cheerfully as he could, and left Kyle standing there as he turned and headed away, back towards the school doorway. He still had his bag to get after all, and he still wanted to find Butters. And thinking about those things was good enough to keep him looking pretty normal all the way up the stairs and through the doors.

His façade broke the moment his eyes met Stan's. The black haired boy stood to one side of the doors, looking at him as mournfully as if he'd just been told that someone he loved was going to die a long, horrible, painful death. Kenny grimaced, looking away.

"Fuck, does everyone fucking know?" He growled, exasperated and tired. Stan didn't say anything, just walked up and put an arm across his shoulders.

"Look, Stan, I'm fine, all right? I'm all right. And honestly, I'm a little fucking sick and tired of talking about this with everyone, so please don't start trying to get me to say anything," Kenny muttered, staring down at the floor. Dammit, dammit! He would've been fine, he would've managed to get through the rest of the day, and possibly even get over this shit sooner. He would've.

"I won't Kenny." Stan said, his arm tightening around the blonde's shoulders. "Sometimes its better not to talk about it."

Kenny sighed, and they walked down the hallway towards Kenny's locker.

"Shouldn't you be out there congratulating him or something?" Kenny muttered after a while, and felt Stan take his arm away.

"I already did." He replied, shrugging. Kenny stopped, looking at him for a long moment.

"Don't ditch him, Stan." He said finally, watching as a flicker of surprise traveled through Stan's eyes. "Don't."

"What the hell, Kenny… how the hell can you say that after everything?" Stan asked, more puzzled than angry. Kenny shrugged.

"I think I'm past the furious-anger part of being dumped. Its on to the calm-realization part now, or some shit like that…" Kenny looked at him. "You're the only one he's got left now, Stan. You really want to leave him all alone? With _that_ house?"

Stan watched him for a long moment, brows furrowed in both thought and puzzlement. Finally he sighed, looking away.

"Yeah, leaving him all alone with his family probably isn't a good idea…" Stan muttered, looking back at Kenny. "What about you?"

"Me? I'll be fine…" Kenny grinned, nodding in the direction of his locker. "I got Butters."

Stan looked over, and saw that the other blonde was, indeed, leaning against the wall next to the group of lockers that contained Kenny's. He saw them, and gave a slight grin in their direction. Stan laughed, shaking his head.

"All right, fine. I'll leave you. But I don't want to hear about it later, and that I deserted you or shit like that…" Stan said waving a hand at Butters before turning away. "I'll see you later."

"Later," Kenny nodded, then turned and headed onwards toward his locker. Butters waited as he got his bag and things out, and they headed out together.

"So, what now?" Butters asked once they were outside. Kenny shrugged, looking up at the sky.

"I dunno…" He said, then looked at Butters with an evil grin. "I guess I'll just see what life decides to do."

Butters frowned at him, but laughed.

"Kenny…" Butters shook his head after a moment, sighing. "Forget it."

"Yeah, I know. I'm good."


	7. FATASS?

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

Two pages shorter than the last time. Sorry, but it's the first time writing this POV… it was difficult… I got the feeling of a lot of repressed anger… If anyone disagrees with me, cool. Let me know. :)

Also, I usually refrain from doing things like this. This time, however, I will tell you the next chapter will be AWESOME. It is going to set a ball moving. And it is going to be from Kyle's POV. You're going to find one thing out, get reaffirmed on another thing. And, oh yes, there will be angst..

Why am I telling you all this?

Because I have a serious request. Super serious.

I have a story up on called "Angina". Click my name, you'll find it there. it's a oneshot. It's KxK.

**And it has 0 reviews**.

Now, while I don't usually whine about getting no reviews, that story was one I was really, really proud of.

**So**, because the next chapter is going to be so awesome, I'm going to make life difficult for you all.

I know, I know. You guys love me so much.

But, here's the difficult part: The next chapter won't be posted until Angina gets 5 reviews (by 5 different people, obviously).

Can we do that?

I love you all. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Even if it IS short. XD

**Thanks to:**

**Kennylover98: **Thank you very much for the wonderful review! And all those before. I really appreciate your in-depth critiques, they help a whole lot. Yeah, Cartman is… weird. Its interesting, the Cartman I have envisioned in my mind. It'd take a long time to explain it. I'm trying to work on that setting development, but (like in this chapter) sometimes I get a little too caught up in the character development… eheh… I'm trying:)

**Ren85: **I really think that there's this little connection thing between Kenny and Cartman… Hard to explain, but neither one of them has an ideal life, so… Heh… Thanks!

**XL4stBr3ath: **I'm glad you're enjoying it! Thank you!

**Tweeky Kinz: **Awwww I love you too:)

**Francina: **I'm happy to hear you're enjoying it! Thanks!

**Darkdeskull: **Hoho, probably because the angst factor goes over 9000:D Seriously, they're both walking blobs of potential-angst…. X3 Haha… Thank you!

**Die.Darling: **Haha, Kyle IS stupid. Like, honestly. I mean, come on, I write this and I think he's stupid… and I'm not trying to write him that way, it just comes out like that… XD

**Bee Bop: **Honestly, I hope it gets better soon. For them, it'll be a little wait. For us too… :( Story development… Just imagine them happy and in love and then you'll feel better.

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Cartman sighed, shifting his weight on the seat. Marine Biology class. 30 students, one whore of a teacher, and one fucking project due next week. That made ten groups of three in the class, and he had to get stuck in this one. Not that he would've minded that much, really, except that his two partners were both so preoccupied with whatever shit their minds were focused on that they didn't even react to his attempts to piss them off.

Actually, they didn't react to _anything_, period.

Gawd. What a pair of losers.

He snorted, earning him a sharp look from one of the blondes. Cartman glared back, but although Butters almost, _almost_ flinched, he still managed to look back down at his paper with an air of indifference.

Fucking smartass. Cartman had decided a while ago that he didn't like Butters anymore. It took _forever_ these days to get him even a little nervous, or pissed, and it was more work than Cartman liked to do.

Whatevah.

There was shit to do.

"Okay gahs, what're we doing?" Cartman asked, settling back into his seat. Butters looked at him for a long moment, then glanced over at the last member of their group. Cartman let out a long breath; why the hell did the little fuck decide to not talk to him now. "Kenneh!"

His name, barked so sharply, brought the blonde out of what seemed to have been a good daydream. He glared darkly at Cartman for a moment before slouching back in his seat.

"What?" Kenny muttered.

Cartman restrained himself from launching his newly sharpened pencil at the blonde's eye.

"The project." He said.

"What about it?" Kenny pulled on one of his hood's drawstrings, frowned at it, pulled on it again.

"Goddamit, what the fuck are we going to do it on?!" Cartman snarled.

"Watch your language, _please_!" Ms. Trotter called from the front of the class. Cartman cursed colorfully, under his breath this time.

"Whatever you want…" Kenny shrugged indifferently. Cartman rolled his eyes, turned to the other blonde.

"Butters. Do you have an idea?" He asked as painfully patient as he could. Targeted with a direct question, Butters was forced to reply.

"…yeah…" He fidgeted a little, and Cartman waited, but nothing more came.

"Butters, remember, it's a group grade. So if you wanna fucking fail, then go ahead. Whatevah. Ah'm sure your parents'll be _ecstatic_ about that." Cartman growled, low so that the teacher wouldn't hear.

Butters stiffened visibly, his jaw clenching. Cartman practically saw murder flashing in his eyes. Shit. Fucking _naïve_ Butters - SURE. The kid was fucking psycho, and Cartman had no idea why no one else saw that.

"We can do the project on Cuttlefish and the way they use the specialized cells in their skin to camouflage themselves and to communicate with each other…" Butters said finally, looking down as he slid his papers into a single pile.

"Will that get us an A, Butters?" Cartman asked, voice low.

"It should." Butters replied through only slightly gritted teeth.

Bastard.

"All right then, Cuttlefish." Cartman said, and looked over at Kenny. The blond had folded his arms on his desk and rested his chin on them, one end of one of the hood's drawstrings in his mouth, and was staring off at a random point in the distance. "Whaddya think, Kenneh?"

No reply.

"Kenneh, goddamit, are you even listening?" Cartman fumed. Kenny blinked, shrugging.

"Yeah, sounds good…" He managed, chewing a bit on the drawstring. "Whatever."

"Wh..whatever?" Cartman breathed in almost-disbelief. Kenny didn't notice, still staring off into the distance, and Cartman turned in near despair to Butters. The second blonde had taken out a black piece of paper and was doodling random drawings on it, one of his arms bent around to block most of the paper from view.

The urge to do some bodily harm was rapidly rising. It was probably for the best that the bell rang at that moment. There was general ruckus as the rest of the class began throwing things into backpacks and shoving their chairs back noisily.

"Finally." Cartman heaved a sigh, pushing himself up and grabbing his things. "Now Ah know you gahs don't want to spend too much time on this, so lets just get it over with tonight, alright?"

"Sure." Kenny shrugged, pushing his chair back under his desk with his foot. He didn't have any books with him, and Cartman had noticed he hadn't been carrying his backpack to school either. That, and the fact that he never seemed to be able to focus on one thing for any length of time led Cartman to a single conclusion: Po' Boy was still pining after Jew Boy.

What a fucking fag.

Cartman forced the sneer off of his face.

"Butters?" He asked, trying not to sound too nasty.

"Where?" Butters responded, standing on the other side of Kenny.

"Ah don't know! Why the fuck do Ah have to decide everything?" Cartman growled. Fucking. Shit. What the hell was wrong with these two? Gawd. Time needed to speed up, so he could get away from these walking masses of apathetic angst. It was making his skin crawl.

"Your place." Kenny said, looking at him.

Cartman paused for a moment, thinking. Kenny's poor pad or Butters's psychotic abode?

"Fine." He grumbled, leading the way out of the classroom. "Lets just get going already."

They split off in the hallway, their lockers being in different directions, with an agreement to meet by the front stairs. Cartman trudged down the stairs, trying to figure out a way to survive the next few hours.

Gawd, but Kenny was doing bad. Summer had been weird enough as it was, but at least then he hadn't been disinterested in anything and everything going around him. And Cartman hadn't known the entire story back then, too. That helped.

But damn. He'd really thought Kenny'd get over it by now. Kyle was. Cartman had had the wonderful luck to overhear one of the honors slut's conversation about how wonderful dinner at the Broflovski's was. He hadn't stayed long; it was apparent the girl was kin to the devil if she thought the Jewish-She-Bitch was a wonderful person.

Ugh, just remembering that made Cartman's stomach turn. He stopped in front of his locker, spinning out the combination as fast as he could. The fucking thing jammed on him twice before he managed to punch it open. Stupid shitty public school system with its stupid shitty lockers.

Something had to be done.

Yes. That's right. Something had to be done.

A trickle of something flowed through him.

And if something had to be done, then… then he needed a plan.

Duh.

Shit, why hadn't he thought of it before? He stared into the open locker, eyes focused on the rust-mottle grey metal inside, but not seeing it. A smile was creeping onto his face, and excitement was beginning to flow through him. Fuck, he hadn't felt this excited about something since he sabotaged the entire school's science fair in eighth grade.

Yes, he needed a plan. And to make a plan he'd need to be observant, he'd need to listen to everything, see everything, _know everything_. Ha. Yes, yes this was good.

He closed his locker with a triumphant smirk, and turned to head off down the hallway. A few people in the hallway gave him strange looks, backing away to give him room. He hurried past them, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he headed out the front doors.

Waiting for his mother to answer he glanced around, finding his two project partners seated on the stairs to his left. Shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Fuck, why don't they just get each other matching rainbow collars and get it over with?

He rolled his eyes, taking his time walking over. What the hell was taking her so long?

"Hello, Eric?" His mothers too-sweet voice answered finally. She sounded a little… out of breath.

"Mom, me an' some friends have a project to do, and they wanna come to our house…" Cartman started, but…

"Oh…oh, today Eric?" She paused for a second. "I'm not sure that such a good idea. Maybe tomorrow, honey."

"Aw GAWDAMMIT! Mom! Fuck! You said this week would be free," He fumed, loud enough that both Kenny and Butters, still a good ten feet away, turned around to look at him.

"Language, Eric, remember what the counselor said-"

"Ah'll fucking remember what the fucking counselor said when _you_ do!"

"Eric-"

"Just forget it," Cartman snapped the cell shut, stuffing it into his pocket as he stomped his way over to the blondes.

"Mom busy today, _Eric_?" Kenny managed a snide grin, doing a pretty good imitation of his mother's voice. That, of course, didn't' help the situation.

"Come on, fags, lets go." Cartman grumbled, heading on down the stairs. He could hear the two get up and follow him after a moment.

"Where?" Kenny asked.

"Butters's house." Cartman replied.

"W-what?" Butters sputtered out, and Cartman turned to see that the blonde had stopped dead in his tracks. "No way, Eric, nuh-uh, there's no way-"

"You wanna go to Kenneh's house Butters? Huh?" Stupid shits with their stupid _apathy_ and stupid fucking _angst_. "You'll catch, like, 5 different STDs just sitting on his bed…"

The glare suddenly shot at him from Kenny would've melted the ice caps.

"Although, knowing how you two are, you probableh don't have to worreh about that by now…" Cartman spat. Butters stiffened slightly, his expression so 'wtf-ish' that it couldn't be described any other way.

"What the fuck are you talking about fat-ass-" Kenny began, growling himself, but Cartman cut him off.

"Fuck off Kenneh." He said, stepping face-to-face with the fuming blonde. Not a smart move, probably, but it'd be a lie if he said he was thinking clearly at the moment. "Ah just want this fucking project over with. "

Kenny glared straight back at him, not backing down.

"Fine." Butters spat finally, breaking their stalemate. "Let's jus' get to my house and get this over wit'."

He set off ahead of them, and after a moment Kenny hurried after. Cartman sighed deeply; why the fuck was he forced to put up with this crap? He followed behind, passing Kenny as the blonde stopped to light a cigarette.

A screech of tires, followed by a hollow thump, brought him to a halt. He stood there for a moment, listening to the screams and cursing out God with every swear word he knew, before turning around. A low-riding sedan stood with its grill pressed against a tree. On the close side a girl stood, staring down at the hand that could be seen sticking out from under the car, a lighter still clenched in it fingers. Red was already staining the slush covered sidewalk.

Cartman turned back around to see Butters staring back at the scene, looking slightly horrified, but mostly nauseated.

"Ah guess its just you and me, Butters." Cartman said, starting off down the sidewalk towards the blonde. He was rewarded with a look of utter horror. Apparently, without Kenny around Butter's confidence level dropped drastically.

The blonde swallowed nervously, but didn't respond. The walk to his house was uneventful, except for the howling of sirens, and soon they were entering the front door.

"My parent's aren't home, th-they're out visiting my g-grandparents…" Butters stuttered quietly; he wanted Cartman there just as much as Cartman wanted to be there. "They… they said they didn't want me havin' anyone over when they're not here…"

He continued to mutter something that sounded like "got in trouble for it last time…" but Cartman wasn't listening that closely.

"Just tell them it was for a project that you need to do to pass the class or something…" Cartman grunted, waiting impatiently as Butters locked the door. Gawd. Six locks, these people needed some _serious_ help.

Butters led the way upstairs, dropping his things on his bed and opening the shades in his window. Cartman dropped into the desk chair, his things going on the desk. He grimaced as he looked around the room; the place was too neat.

"So…uh…want some snacks? Ah… Ah'll go get some…" Butters fidgeted, his fingers picking at the edge of his shirt. "Ah'll be right back…"

Cartman snorted as the blonde left the room. Great. He can see just how the rest of the day was going to go. They'd be fucking lucky if they got anywhere past the first sentence.

Having been left alone, his mind started to wander, and he found himself thinking on his plan. Plan. Where was he going to get info? He could probably strangle it out of Butters, but that could take a while. Hm. Who else knew? His mind started listing names, possible information to be gathered from each. He had to be observant. He had to watch for any clues. If this was going to get done, if it was going to get done _right_, he'd have to gather every single thing he could.

Now, the question was: Where to start looking?


	8. Letters

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

First of all, thank you to the people who reviewed Angina :D I was really, really ecstatic about it, thank you all so very awesomely much!

Now… enjoy this. I mean it. I am FORCING you to enjoy this chapter. O:

Okay, no, not really. I just hope you do.

IMPORTANT: I am going on vacation from August 13 to August 16, so if I don't manage to have another chapter up by the end of this week, I'll try to have it for all of you on the 17th, okay :D YAY

**Thanks to:**

**Kennylover98**

**Bee Bop**

**Ren85**

**DarkDeSkull**

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Lips were on his neck, trailing soft kisses down to his collarbone. He moaned, shifting under roving hands. The kisses were trailing lower, more often than not accompanied by soft nips, and his hands found their owner's head, fingers twisting in blond hair. He didn't try to push that head lower on his body, not really, but then maybe he did. He felt rather than heard the chuckle that escaped the lips pressed against his abdomen. His fingers lost their grip as a wonderfully moist, hot tongue trailed its way up his body. His body ached with pleasure, his fingers found that blonde hair again as the tongue ended its trail at the tip of his chin.

Blue eyes suddenly looked into his own. Lust darkened them, they were deeper than he ever remembered them being. Its been too long, he thought. Its been much too long. He pulled the face closer, felt lips collide with his. His tongue plunged past those lips, roving in a mouth that let them in willingly. For a long moment he lost himself in the sensations, lost himself in the touch and the push and the, oh god, the feelings that he hadn't felt for so long.

The kiss ended. The blue eyes are above him, darkened again, but not from lust anymore. The lips he'd kissed were turned down in a questioning frown. The mood had changed.

"Why?"

The question ripped through him. He felt something break inside.

"Why don't you love me anymore?"

He tried to respond, tried to form words, but he couldn't get air into his lungs. He was choking, and the figure above him was fading, was turning half-visible. Only those eyes, shining in the surrounding dark, were visible.

He flung out his hands, but they found empty air. He blinked, and only darkness lived around him. He was still choking, and as he struggled he felt something winding around him. He gasped, his hands at his throat, his fingers tightening around the fabric coiled around it. He wrenched the covers off, tossing them aside as he gulped the air. He rolled around on the bed, arms flung out, hands searching. He ended on his side, arms wrapped around himself, face pressed into the twisted covers beneath him.

He was sobbing, he realized. He brought his hands to his face; he could feel them shaking against his skin. With a groan he pulled himself off of the bed and onto the floor. He landed on a clutter of random items, the metal spiral of a notebook poked against his leg, a pen dug into his knee. He gritted his teeth, choking back another sob as it tried to rip out of him.  
Almost laying on the floor he poked his arms under the bed. Out came the boxes of Hot Wheels cars and Legos. The old microscope followed, along with a pair of nunchuks. His hands reached farther into the space beneath his mattress.

His fingers groped in the empty darkness, and this time the sob did come out, ripping out of him. His face dropped to the floor. He'd forgotten, he really had. They were gone. He'd given them away in a fit of anger and jealousy. He'd given them away to be burned so he'd never be reminded again. He could feel the tears he hadn't known he shed pooling on the floor beneath his closed eyes.

He began to pull his hands out when his fingers snagged on something. He gripped it reflexively, felt it wrinkle stiffly in his grasp. With a gasp he lifted his head, striking it sharply against the bottom of his bed frame. He winced, but pulled himself out from under the bed, his hand still clenched tight around the papers he'd found.

Maybe…

He leaned against the bed, squinting in the darkness, and smoothed out the paper. Nothing. It was too dark to see anything.

With desperation he pulled himself onto the bed, his hand reaching out towards the lamp on his bedside table before he was even fully on it. The light flashed on, and for a second he was blinded. Blinking, he crouched on the bed, and brought the paper up to the light. His eyes widened for a moment, and then his vision blurred as tears began gathering in his eyes once more.

_"…I promised I promised I promised I promised… I do not love Kenny. I do not love Kenny. I do not love Kenny…"_

The paper was crumpled in his hand as he dropped to the mattress. Of course, those were the only ones he kept, the only ones, so that no would know. He lay there for a long while, wallowing in the emotions that were washing over him. The regret, the guilt, the _emptiness_.

He pushed himself off the mattress, throwing the paper down as he did. He needed to get out, he couldn't stay there any longer. The air was stifling, he felt trapped. He needed out.

He was at the door, his hand on the handle, before he realized that putting on clothes would probably be a good idea. After stumbling around his room in the half-dark, he managed to put a shirt and pants on, and was heading out the door as quietly as he could.

His shoes and coat went on downstairs, and he left out the back door, shoes crunching on early snow as he headed around to the front of the house.

He didn't know what to do, where to go. His thoughts wouldn't stay still for any length of time. The darkness outside, barely lit by the waning moon, made everything larger than life, surreal. Trees loomed out of nowhere, and more than once he had to stop sharply to keep from walking into one.

His mind wasn't entirely focused on what he was doing, anyway. Stumbling around in the dark, all he could think of was past memories, of this time last year, when he'd been bombarded by very similar feelings of longing. But that was a hopeful sort of longing, a yearning for something that still seemed possible. This time those feelings were bitter, regretful. He wanted nothing more than to go back to how it had been, to be able to live through those moments again. He knew he'd made a lot of mistakes, he knew that nothing had been perfect back then, but he liked to think that if there had been more time, that they would have reached that perfection.

But that was ruined now. The guilt weighed heavily on him; it had been his decision, after all. He ducked his head bracingly against a sudden, cold wind. He had decided to end it as he had, to go on as if nothing was the matter. As if everything was as normal as it could be. As if he didn't break a little inside each time he saw how much pain he'd caused him.

Two weeks. Two weeks since he'd been… congratulated.

No. No, he didn't want to think about that.

Didn't want to think that that meant…

Maybe, maybe it meant that things really were…

That things really couldn't go back to what they were.

He gritted his teeth, hands tightening into fists in his pockets.

He had to stay calm. Don't think about it. Don't think about anything.

For a moment he had peace. For a moment all he focused on was the hush around him, the wind shivering past empty tree branches, his shoes crunching in the stiff snow underfoot.

Then it all blazed back. He couldn't stop thinking about it if he tried then. The feel, the touch, the taste, he couldn't fight it back. He hunched his shoulders, gritted his teeth against the onslaught of emotions that bombarded him again, and moved onward, hurried as though he was being chased. Further and forward he rushed. He didn't know where he was headed, where he wanted to go. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to go anywhere. All he could do was keep moving, keep putting one foot in front of the other.

When the trains horn blared, it seemed to come straight out from in front of him.

The shock that blazed through him was so great that it wasn't until he was pushing himself up to a sitting position on the ground that he realized that he'd fallen backward.

The black iron monster blared its horn again, roaring past him. He stared after it for a long while, sitting with the cold snow seeping through his pants, before getting up. His eyes followed its progress, stopping at the road it crossed not far to his right. He shuddered, turning around quickly to begin walking away. He had to stop wandering around without a definite place in his mind.

He could always go to…

No, no, he couldn't.

He was back on the road towards the city main. The trees were thinning, the building were coming up out of the gloom around him. Moonlight glinted off of dark store windows, and a few streetlights flickered fitfully in the darkness. The snow here was dirty, seeded with coarse salt and churned into slush in most places. He felt his shoes slipping slightly on frozen snow in some places.

He couldn't tell how long he'd been wandering around in the dark. His hands patted through the pockets of his jacket and pants, and came up with his cell phone, tucked away in his back pants pocket. Pressing a button, he saw he had two text messages. He grimaced, more than sure he knew who they were from. Shoving his cell phone back in his pocket he continued on. A second later he groaned, realizing that he hadn't checked the time.

Whatever. He didn't really care anymore.

He was unhappily wandering past Main street when he heard another pair of footsteps following him. He frowned, stopping, and the footsteps stopped behind him. A little uncertain, he turned slowly to face whoever it was that had been following him.

"Well, Kahl, wandering around in the dark again?" Cartman said, arms crossed across his thick front.

Kyle glared at him, whipping around and starting down the sidewalk again. This was not what he needed, not now, not ever.

"Where are you off to, Kahl? I wanted to talk to you…"

He could hear Cartman begin to follow him again, and his fists clenched in his pockets.

"I got something you might want, Kaaaahlll…"

Kyle grimaced; he did not like that tone.

"Let's see, what is this nyah…."

Kyle could hear the exaggerated sound of paper crinkling even above the sound of their shoes crunching in the snow. He slowed slightly, wondering what the hell Cartman was bothering him about this time.

"A-hum, and I quote 'Dear Kenny, I know I won't be able to send this out to you, but I feel the need to write this anyway. It's been too long since we last sp-'"

Kyle whipped around so fast he didn't realize it. He could feel the blood drain from his face, the air empty his lungs. He stared at Cartman, standing there, a smile like a fucking Cheshire cat on his face, reading…

…reading his…

The blood that had been draining from his face was suddenly rerouted back. There was no way, there was no fucking way Cartman was reading what he was reading.

"Want me to continue, Kahl? There's more here, let's see… 'I don't know how I can stand it here without you, without your touch, your smile.' Pfft, you really do sound like a fag…" Cartman chuckled, turning the paper over. He looked at Kyle, eyes glittering. "More?"

"Shut up." Kyle growled, advancing, his fists out and clenched.

"What, Kahl? Ah thought Ah'd help you remember some… happier… times…" Cartman smirked, backing away with each step Kyle took.

"Where the fuck did you get that?" Kyle rushed forward suddenly, grabbing the paper in Cartman's hand. There was a slight struggle, but Cartman released the paper suddenly and backed away another few steps. Kyle pulled the letter close to him, still glaring daggars. "Where?!"

"Well now, Kahl… if you want to know something, you should ask politeleh…" Cartman said. He put his hand in his jacket, removed another paper. "But while you calm down enough to ask politeleh, why don't Ah read you some more?"

Kyle looked down at the paper in his hand, then back at Cartman, dumbfounded for a moment. This wasn't supposed to be happening. These were supposed to be burned. Burned. To ash. Stan had promised.

"Ohoho, this is a nice one… A little …detailed… too," Cartman chuckled, then turned a sour look to Kyle. "Not that Ah enjoy this kinda thing, right… But you, you should… well, Ah mean, you did write it… Let's see…"

A sudden thought came to mind, and this time Kyle was quicker at ripping the paper out of Cartman's hand.

"Having fun, Kahl?" Cartman laughed, not at all put off by the fact that the furious redhead was standing face to face with him. "Ah have more, Ah can keep this up all night…"

"Goddamit Fatass! Where the fuck did you get these from? Tell me!" Kyle snapped, two letters held in two separate hands now. He didn't like what Cartman was implying; just how many letters did he have?

"Oh, that doesn't matter Kahl… Not anymore." Cartman sneered, then leaned closer to add softly. "I have all of them."

Kyle jerked back, not wanting to be that close to Cartman any longer than he had to. The words hit him deep, and he could feel the blood draining back out of his face. If Cartman had all the letters, if he really had…

Cartman was looking at him with a satisfied smirk now, a lazy grin. Kyle backed away, feeling threatened suddenly. He didn't like that smirk, he didn't like the way Cartman was eyeing him, like a predator eyeing wounded prey.

"What… what do you want?" Kyle heard his voice shake. He couldn't stop it. Another thing Cartman had on him; he thought he'd be safe if he managed to snag a girl. That was the plan, if he had a girl then, then even if Cartman DID tell his parents he still had feelings for Kenny they wouldn't believe him. That was the plan.

But now?

Those letters…

"What do Ah want…" Cartman said thoughtfully, eyes narrowed. He stayed silent for a moment before his grin split wide. "Oh, don't worry Kahl. When the time comes, you'll know _exactly_ what I want…"

Kyle stood there, knees starting to shake. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if Cartman gave those letters, gave them to _anyone_. He didn't want to think what Cartman would think up, how Cartman would use him. He didn't want it, he didn't, he didn't…

The turmoil in his head must have been visible on his face; a moment later Cartman was frowning at him, seemingly dissatisfied.

"Go home, Kahl." Cartman said, waving his hand dismissively. "Take your… trophies… with you."

He turned, leaving the redhead where he stood. A few steps down the sidewalk Cartman stopped, turning back with a nasty smile.

"Ah'll know where to find you when Ah need you, Jew."

Kyle shuddered visibly, wincing as Cartman's laughter cut harshly into the night around them.

This hadn't happened, it hadn't. He stared down at the two letters held crumpled in his hands. Two. Out of how many? Forty? More? He couldn't remember how many there were anymore.

Fuck. How did Cartman get them? Stan was supposed to burn them, dammit! He was supposed to take them to the pond and burn them! Why… why, of all the people, was Cartman the one who had them?

He managed to turn himself around, stumbling off in the general direction of his house.

It was too much to take at the moment. He felt so drained, so lethargic. He really couldn't think straight at the moment. He should go home, go to sleep. Once he got some sleep he'd be able to figure this out. He'd be able to figure out what to do.

Oh. Oh fuck. Cartman had the letters.

He was going back to that, wasn't he?

His eyes lowered to the papers in his hands again. Two. He had two.

Raising his eyes again, he took bearing of his surroundings.

Fuck Cartman. Cartman can wait.

His steps back home were hurried, more often than not he ran into things he hadn't noticed until the last moment. The only moment he slowed was when he reached his yard. Opening the back door as quietly as possible, he toed off his shoes, hung his coat, and hurried upstairs.

The house was silent around him as he entered his room. Once inside he glanced around quickly; nothing was moved. Even the bedside lamp was still on as he had left it.

He was shivering, he realized, and his pants were soaked through and freezing. Stripping down quickly he crawled under the covers, pulling them up around him as he leaned against the wall, as close to the light as he could get. With only slightly shaking hands he took the two pieces of paper and smoothed them down against his knees. He closed his eyes a moment, forcing himself to calm down. He felt the paper beneath his fingers, felt the creases in it, felt its edges, no longer sharp but worn after all this time.

Opening his eyes, he focused on the first thing he saw:

_"I don't know how I could survive so long without you. I miss everything about you; I miss your touch, your taste. I miss the way you laugh just after you tell one of your dirty jokes. I miss the way you smile when you think I'm not looking at you. I wish I could make it so that you could smile like that forever…"_


	9. Walk da dog

-1Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

Okay, I thought I was going to have a chapter before I left, but I didn't… I'm sorry… D: But here's one now! Yay!  
ENJOY!

…if anyone wants to see the fish I caught, check out zoshi-the-confused. deviantart. Com (without the spaces :D) I have one pic up and I'll try to have more soon, after I sleep off the travel crazies..

**Thanks to:**

**Kennylover98**

**Bee Bop**

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong 

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Stan barely took three steps into the classroom before a pair of hands gripped his arm and dragged him back out. The school walls streaked by him as he was dragged further down the hallway and into a bathroom. Feeling the tight grip finally leave his arms, he turned around to face the nervous blond now standing off to the side, wringing his hands and looking at him with a horribly guilty look. 

"W-we… uh, that… that is, t-there's a problem, S-stan…" Butters whimpered, backing up against a sink.

"A problem? What are you talking about?" Stan frowned, confused. What the hell had happened?

"Well, well, you see, t-there was this p-project, a… a few days ago…" Butters stuttered, but Stan stopped him.

"Calm down, Butters, all right? Calm down…" Stan put his hands on the blond's shoulders. Butters took a deep breath, then nodded. Stan took his hands back and motioned for him to continue. "Okay, try again…"

"There was this project, and… and Ah got grouped with Kenny an-and Eric…" Butters began to explain, gripping his hands tightly in each other to keep them from shaking. "And we were gonna go to Eric's house to do it, but… but his mom was-" And here Butters paused to take a gulp of air. "-was _busy_, and… and then Kenny got hit by a car, and Eric said we had to go to _my_ house, and I didn't want to…"

He turned big, blue, pleading eyes at Stan.

"Please don't be mad, Stan, Ah… Ah didn't mean for it to happen…" Butters whimpered again, and Stan found himself putting his hands back on the blonde's shoulders, rubbing them gently to try and calm him down.

"Its really all my fault, Ah really should've been payin' more attention," Butters frowned, his eyes flitting away to focus on something unknown. "Ah'm always messing thin's up and its not right, no sir…"

"Butters, I'm sure it wasn't your fault…" Stan was getting a little worried now; he hadn't seen Butters this flustered in years. "Tell me what happened."

There was a moment where Butters continued to stare off somewhere, and then he turned his eyes back to Stan. His face was pale, drained, his eyes wide and scared.

"They're gone…" His voice came out as a squeak. Stan frowned thoughtfully for a second.

"They?" He pronounced the word carefully, as if that would help shock his memory into remembering what that 'they' could be.

"Th…the letters…" Butters said, his head lowering slightly as his voice dropped. Now he was staring mournfully up at Stan, rigid and unmoving as he waited for Stan's reaction.

For a moment, Stan didn't know _how_ to react. The letters were gone. Kyle's letters were… gone. And then he remembered what Butters had been saying, that there was a project, that he was supposed to work on it with Kenny and Cartman… that Kenny had died before they'd gotten anywhere. Cartman and Butters had to work on the project at his house, _alone_.

"Cartman…" he breathed, just noticing that his hands were gripping Butters's shoulders tightly. The blond was shifting uncomfortably in his grasp. "Cartman… has them…?"

The thought was so unreal it barely registered in his mind. Butters's place was the safest, he'd concluded, mainly because no one out of their little group regularly went there. From what he knew, no one at all ever regularly went there. The letters should have been safe, hidden away as they were.

Butters nodded, but just barely.

"He musta looked around when Ah wasn't there…" Butters explained, sighing shakily. "But Ah had to leave a few times, and Ah didn't know that he'd, he'd start snoopin' around…"

"Are you sure Cartman took them?" Stan asked like it was the most important thing in the world. And maybe it was.

"It had ta be, no one else was over since then, and they were there before…" Butters gazed at him woefully, and Stan felt the shoulders his hands were on droop. "Ah messed up, didn't Ah…"

"No, Butters, its not your fault…" Stan said, "You couldn't know that Cartman was going to be an ass and go looking where he wasn't supposed to…"

What to do now? If Cartman had those letters, then he knew. And he knew _everything_, everything they did. But that wasn't the worst part; they'd only read those letter to figure out how to help. Cartman was sure to use everything that came into his grasp as blackmail for whatever plans he had in mind, especially if that something involved Kyle, and if Cartman did that, if everything came out into the light…

"…we're doomed…" Stan didn't realize he spoke the last part out loud, but Butters shuddered, staring at him.

"We are?" The blond shuddered again, hands freeing themselves to grip onto Stan's arms. "Ah knew it, Ah knew I ruined everythin'…"

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that…" Stan hurried to reassure him. "It's going to be all right, I was… just thinking of something else. Don't worry, alright?"

"Alright Stan…" Butters took a deep breath. "But what do we do about Eric?"

"Watch him," Stan said thoughtfully, "Watch him very, very carefully…"

For a long moment the two stood there, until Stan realized that his hands were still resting on Butters's shoulders. He pulled them away, clearing his throat.

"We should get back to class before the teacher marks us absent," He said, stepping back a little. Butters nodded before heading out of the bathroom slowly. Stan made to follow, but stopped, looking down at his hands. What a weird feeling… He shook his head, closing his hands and heading out of the bathroom. He'd have time to wonder about that later, right now Cartman was more important.

* * *

Frustration, impatience, both good words for how Stan was feeling at the moment. For the past five days he, along with Butters, had been watching Cartman's every move. Well, every move that they could see. There were still the hours after school, when neither Butters nor Stan could find him, when he could have been putting his plan in motion.

When they weren't watching Cartman, they were trying to monitor Kyle. It wasn't the easiest thing either, especially since most of the time he was locked away behind the doors of his house. Each time Stan went over the visit was monitored, either by the hawk-sharp eyes of Mrs. Sheila Broflovski, who would bustle in with the excuse of asking what they wanted for dinner or to inform them that she was stepping out for a bit, or the cold eyes of Ike, who would generally stare at Stan as he entered the house, retreating to his room afterwards. Stan suspected that the boy was listening through the wall, since every time they got up to leave Kyle's room Ike was there too, and wouldn't you know it, heading in the same direction as them, whether it was the kitchen or the backyard.

Stan had no idea how Kyle could stand living like that, but surprisingly, the redhead was calm and relaxed. He didn't snap at anyone, didn't even _glare_ at anyone, which led Stan to believe that something was horribly wrong with his best friend. Fuck, Kyle hadn't gotten mad at anything for almost two months. Ever since he got back he'd been… weird. Different. Not-Kyle. Stan didn't like it, and he suspected that it had something to do with whatever it was that made him denounce his relationship with Kenny.

But there was one thing that struck him as odd: both Butters and Kenny (who was beginning to say less and less as the days passed) told him that Cartman was suddenly rocketing through lessons with high grades. Now, granted, Cartman wasn't a stupid kid, when he applied, he managed to out-ace almost everyone, but the fact was that school grades weren't top priorities in Cartman's mind. The only way he'd want to do well in school was if he was confident that he'd be able to outdo Kyle in that, and he wasn't. Why would Cartman be applying himself now?

Unless, he was just forcing Kyle to do his homework? That could be plausible, then he wouldn't have to waste energy on things he didn't want to do.

But… there was so much in those letters, to use them like that seemed… lacking. There had to be more to what he was doing, Stan was sure. But what?

"Stan, would you take Sparky out?"

He groaned, rolling off of his bed. Sparky, the family mutt, was already waiting for him outside his door. The damn dog always knew who it was that was going to take him for the walk, and had the annoying habit of shadowing whoever it was until they put on their shoes and got the leash. Grumbling a series of curses Stan plodded down the stairs, Sparky at his heels the whole way, and pulled his shoes on. The dog was doing circles in front of the door, tongue lolling about, eyes bright with excitement, as if he hadn't been out for a walk just a few hours earlier.

"Trust me, mutt, there's nothing new to sniff out there," Stan told him as he clipped the leash onto his collar. "Just the same old world there always is…"

They headed out, Sparky nearly dislocating his shoulder, as usual, in his haste to get to the neighbors tree. After a series of deep sniffs and huffs he left his mark and they set off on their walk.

Overall, Stan didn't mind walking the dog. It gave him an excuse to wander around for a while, something that he'd usually get quizzed over by his mom otherwise, and it was so routine he could let his thoughts wander without worrying that he was going to do something stupid, like cross in the middle of the street and walk under a car.

And so, with Sparky leaving his trail as he followed someone else's, Stan let his thoughts wander.

Cartman. Cartman definitely had a plan. More than once that week Stan had caught him looking at Kyle with a triumphant glint in his eyes, a look that generally meant that havoc was soon to follow. It was days past now, but still no havoc. Did Cartman have something bigger in his plans? Something more than just humiliating the redhead? What was he planning that took him so long to act?

It must be something horrible, Stan decided. Something so… _Cartman_ that the rest of them couldn't figure it out. The thought did nothing to calm Stan's nerves. They were frayed enough as it is, what with the constant worrying about Kyle he did, and about Kenny, and about Butters, because as hard as he tried the blonde couldn't hide the fact that whatever tough façade he'd built up was crumbling under the pressure of the current situation. Butters had never been able to deal with problems this big. He was never as bad as Tweek, who'd fall apart at the _mention_ of pressure, but he wasn't the best either. The only thing keeping Butters going, Stan thought, was his unexplainable optimism in the face of everything. As horrible as things got, he always managed to find some shred of hope in everything. That, Stan discovered, was something that wouldn't go away, as a day after they'd decided to watch Cartman, Butters had shown him an intricate schedule that would allow them to shadow Cartman as much as possible over the days.

"Ah really think we got a shot at this, Stan. Actually, I think we got a really good shot at this," Butters had said, beaming at him happily. Gone was the nervous wreck in the bathroom, replaced by the poster boy for optimists everywhere. Sunshine in the gloom, that's Butters.

Stan chuckled to himself, pulling Sparky away from a bush and heading on. The walk was nice, and relaxing, but they should be getting back soon. He turned around, starting off, when he saw a familiar figure on the other side of the street. Pulling Sparky along, Stan crossed the street, hurrying after the figure.

"Butters! Wait up!" He called out, and the blond stopped, turning to look at him curiously.

"Oh, hi Stan." Butters grinned, then looked down at Spark. "Hi there doggy…"

"What're you up to?" Stan grinned back. Suddenly, he didn't feel so disinterested in things anymore.

"Oh, uh, noth-nothin' much," Butters clasped his hands behind his back loosely. "You know, just takin' a walk around…"

"Mind if we join you?" Stan asked, Sparky wagging his tail lazily at his feet.

"S-Sure," Butters stuttered, and while he smiled, Stan had the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Still, he stayed quiet as they started off down the street.

"So, anything interesting happen lately?" Stan asked after a while.

"Well, Ah was over at Kenny's house today," Butters said, kicking at a rock as they passed it.

"How's he doing? He's been a little quiet lately," Stan glanced over at the blonde.

"Oh, he's… well, he's tryin' to move on…" Butters said with a sigh, then looked over at Stan from the corner of his eye. "I'm tryin' to get him to still, you know, believe but…"

Stan groaned, and Sparky looked up at him, head cocked.

"Why? If he could only hold out a little longer…" Stan shook his head angrily. A little longer, and what? They were no closer to solving the problem than they had been two months ago.

"It was Rebecca… He really thinks that Kyle's moved past it…" Butters said, rubbing his arms.

"Do you think he has?" Stan asked, looking at Butters closely. The blond frowned for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, Ah don't think he did. Have you noticed? Kyle doesn't look so… happy." Butters said thoughtfully. "Ah don't think he's really into Rebecca."

Stan snorted.

"He wouldn't be into her no matter what," Stan said, "She's just as crazy as his mom. And she's always hanging all over him. Fuck, no guy wants that."

"…what about a guy who wants to forget everything?" Butters asked quietly. Stan sighed, looking up at the sky.

"Whatever. God, I can't think about it anymore, that's all I've been doing all day today." Stan groaned. "My head's starting to hurt sooo bad…"

Butters chuckled at that, shaking his head.

"Ah know how you feel, trust me." He said grinning over at Stan. The black haired boy found himself grinning back comfortably.

"You wanna come over, Butters?" Stan asked suddenly. Butters looked at him, a little shocked, then glanced away nervously.

"Well… actually, Ah was… Ah was going to ask you if Ah could stay over at your house tonight…" Butters said, finally looking back at him.

"Sure," Stan said without really thinking about it. "Why?"

"See, my parents went to visit my Aunt and Uncle, and Ah sorta locked myself out'a the house," Butters explained, "And Ah was gonna go to Kenny's house, but he's working tonight, so…"

"It's no problem," Stan grinned, but something about Butters's explanation didn't' sound right to his ears. Whatever, the blond was smiling so happily that Stan felt it would be in bad taste to start interrogating him right then. "Come on, my mom should be done with dinner by now."

Together they headed back towards Stan's house, Sparky leaving his trail in their wake.


	10. Shack

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

IMPORTANT: This chapter is best read in ONE SITTING. So if you don't think you'll finish it all at once, then don't start it, but come back when you do have time and read it. :D That's so you get the entire experience.

…and if anyone thinks anyone acts OOC in this, then they should remember just what is happening in this story… XD

I hope you all enjoy it. Really does tell you something about what was going on, and… it ends in a way that I like to end things… hahahaha

**Thanks to:**

**Kennylover98**

**Bee Bop**

**Ren85**

**Ebichu Chan**

**Yourmom **

**I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong 

Author: Zoshi the ConfusedRating: PG-13 to M (eventually) Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

The sky was a darkening blue streaked with pink and orange clouds near the west. The sun was a hazy yellow disk just seeping below the horizon, surrounded by a halo of yellowish-pinkish-purplish sky. Straight overhead the sky was in that fading, melding sort of state, where it was neither blue nor purple nor black, but something in between all three, dark and bright at the same time. 

Kenny breathed out the smoke he'd been holding in, watching it as it floated upwards lazily, twisting slightly in the lightly blowing wind.

He was in no mood for contemplating the sky this evening, or contemplating anything else, in fact. He'd had headaches more often than not lately, waking with them and falling asleep with them. It might have something to do with the fact that he wasn't eating as much as he – well, not _should_, because he never did but – could. His mom was starting to get on his case about that lately, too, which didn't help the headaches at all. You'd think she'd be happy to save some food, but no, some sort of _motherly instinct_ must be trying to get out of her or something.

God, but he was getting bitter.

He used to live for the moments when his mom actually acted like a mom, and his dad like a dad, but lately, each time they did, it only pissed him off even more than he already was.

Fuck, he needed to get over this shit. This wasn't funny, he really shouldn't be stressing over this anymore. It was going to be October in four fucking days and he should be fucking over it already.

He growled at himself, loud enough to scare a stray dog that had curled up next to their kitchen door, and pushed himself off of what passed for their back porch. The dog, a brown and mangy mutt with big, liquid brown eyes, watched him mournfully, hopefully, and after holding its gaze for a moment he took his still lit cigarette and flicked it at the dog.

The cigarette spun artfully through the air, and landed on the dogs nose, lit side down. The dog yelped in pain, and maybe fear, and stumbled to its feet, limping painfully on oversized feet to the far edge of the porch. Whimpering, it hopped off, disappearing from view, then lifted its head just enough so its eyes showed above the warped boards, watching Kenny fearfully with those huge brown eyes.

Great. Fucking great. As if he didn't feel shitty enough, now he felt bad for burning a puppy's – it was a fucking puppy – nose, a poor little puppy with a limp and the mange, who was staring at him like he was some horror from hell made flesh.

Frustrated, he pulled at his hair. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

The puppy disappeared beneath the edge of the porch, and he sighed loudly. He needed to take a fucking walk. It was time to get his head straight and start acting like a normal person finally.

Pulling out another slightly wrinkled cigarette from his pocket, he stuck it between his teeth, searching through his pockets for his lighter as he headed away from his house. He heard the puppy whimper as he walked passed it, and sent it an apologetic look before continuing on his way. Halfway to the tracks he realized he'd left the lighter on his porch.

Fuck.

Whatever. He'd have to make do without a smoke. Maybe it was better this way, he'd been going through almost a pack and a half a day for the past few weeks; another reason why he wasn't eating as much as he could. He sighed, aggravated, pulling his fingers fiercely through his hair again. Pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, he stuffed it back in his pockets and headed over the train tracks.

He couldn't believe he'd ever been so stupid. Just because someone says they mean something doesn't mean they do. But he'd wanted to believe, fuck, he wanted to believe so bad. It sounded so right, coming from Kyle. It sounded so real. He shouldn't have believed so easily, he should've known that it was too good to be true. Besides, nothing lasted, he was more aware of that than anyone else in this stupid little town. He should've been prepared.

Should've, should've, that's all that was in his head these days.

Should've.

He should've been harder to win over, no, he should've never been won over. He should've been fine alone, without anyone getting too close, without anyone giving him any semblance of normality. Without being able to find comfort in any person other than himself. He should've been smarter than that, but he wasn't. He wasn't smart and he wasn't sharp and he couldn't, he _couldn't_, still now, couldn't understand how it all went wrong.

Oh, no, shit, he knew about the _parents,_ and how they were bitches, but not even they could do something that bad. They couldn't. Fuck, the worst his dad did was smack him around and call him a bitch, or a shithead or something.

Parents couldn't be that bad, could they?

He laughed suddenly, bitterly. He was one to talk, wasn't he? Neglected, abused, left alone to cope by himself for most of his life, and he wasn't able to imagine any parents being able to do something like that.

Maybe he was just thinking about it too much. Maybe he'd over thought it so much that he wasn't seeing things clearly anymore. Entirely possible.

He rubbed his forehead. He had to stop thinking. Just stop.

…there was a wind coming from the west, it was rustling the treetops around him. He was walking down the path on the town's side of the railroad tracks. Ahead it bent into the thickening trees, practically vanishing into the darkness between them.

The path led on a side path through the forest, leading to a clearing not far from Stark's Pond. It was a long walk, longer than going there by way of streets, but it was calming, and relaxing, and… it also led to…

Kenny found himself gritting his teeth. The pressure in his jaw wasn't helping the pounding in his head. Fuck. So what if it led _there_, he'd go _there_ if he wanted to. Just because he'd been avoiding it for so long doesn't mean he had to continue. Yeah, he _would_ go there. It was his place before it was ever even close to becoming their place, after all; long before. And it was going to be his place again, now.

He sped up along the trail without really being aware of it. Now that he had a definite place in mind, he had the urge to get there as soon as possible. Hell, maybe he'd find a lighter around there, fuck knows how many he'd lost around that place.

He shuffled through the thick carpet of leaves that littered the ground. The wind was chilly, fall was in full season, and for some strange reason he didn't feel the least bit cold. Well, that might be that he didn't really feel a lot lately at all. Well, not much more than bitter, or angry, or horrendously annoyed. Taking this walk might just help him calm down a bit. Hell, maybe his head would stop hurting finally. Or at least hurt a little less than it did at the moment.

Tall trees with leaves turning colors, the wind rustling over head, birds calling all around him… it was a pretty picturesque sort of scene, but he couldn't focus on it. He'd developed quite a one track mind lately, getting stuck on one thing until it was done, and that was happening again now. Now, all he could think about was how he was going to get to the clearing and to the shed, and that was all he cared about. Some part of him seemed to think that the sooner he got there, the sooner he'd start feeling normal again, or at least the kind of normal he'd been used to.

So really, his walk ended up being more of a half-jog. There was urgency in his trot, and the closer he got to his destination the faster he found himself moving, His breath came out in puffs, every now and then he let out a cough. Fucking cigarettes, he really should quit. A fleeting thought before he focused again on his objective.

The trail he was on began dwindling, narrowing, and soon it was just a slightly beaten path weaving between large, leafy trees, nearly hidden in the carpet of red and orange and brown leaves. Had he been walking on the path on purpose, he'd be forced to start searching for the trail, pushing aside leaves to find it, but he was running on instinct now, he knew exactly where he was going, and how he was going to get there.

The entry into the clearing was sudden, almost shocking. One moment there were tees all around, the next there was open air and yellowish grass underfoot. The shed, shack, cabin, whatever it was, stood in the middle of the clearing, rough and old-looking.

Kenny jerked to a halt, staring at the shack.

The stone step at the front was occupied.

The pounding in his head increased quite a bit, maybe from the sudden rise in his blood pressure, maybe from the pressure with which he was gritting his teeth. Maybe just because this seemed the ideal moment for his head to hurt almost a thousand times more than before.

For a moment he almost turned around, stalked back towards his house, but no. No, dammit, he wanted to come here and he wasn't going to leave now. He wasn't going to _lose_.

With a look of grim determination, Kenny stalked over to the cabin, stopping a few feet short of it.

Kyle sat on the stone step in front of it, leaned low against the door. His head was tilted slightly, resting at an angle against the building, his eyes were closed. Kenny could see his chest rise and fall evenly, could see the way his lips opened slightly with each exhale. There was no real way of telling how long the redhead had been out here, but considering that he had fallen asleep, it probably had been a while.

So what now, what did he do now? Should he leave? Should he stay? Should he tell Kyle off and then go home?

He wanted to touch him. He wanted to feel him, see if he was still real. He wanted to check and see if this wasn't just a dream or something.

And then…

Wait, wait. What the hell was Kyle doing _here_? Why was he here?

To get out of the house…? But he could go anywhere else, _anywhere_… Why here? Why now?

The wind gusted fiercely for a moment, suddenly, ruffling the red curls that stuck out from under Kyle's green ushanka. Kenny, having become fiercely defensive a moment ago, found himself grinning slightly. Kyle really did look adorable when he was asleep. He looked younger, more innocent… Why the hell had this happened? Why couldn't they just have been happy together?

Kenny sighed, trying not to think about that again. Everything was over, Kyle had made that clear. There was nothing between them anymore, he just had to accept that fact.

The wind gusted again, less fiercely this time, but hard enough to make something in Kyle's sleep-limp hand flutter slightly. Kenny frowned thoughtfully, stepping closer to the sleeping redhead. The fluttering something looked like a piece of paper, or something like paper. Kenny leaned over, looking, but he couldn't really see what it was. He stepped even closer, less than a foot away now, and looked down, finally able to see what it was Kyle was holding.

If his blood pressure had raised before, it skyrocketed now. He couldn't hear anything, suddenly, nothing but the pounding of his heart in his ears. His fists were clenching, tightly, but he didn't feel them. He didn't feel the snarl that suddenly appeared on his face, or the way his eyes had narrowed dangerously.

HOW

FUCKING

DARE

HE

If he'd been aware he was moving, he wasn't after the fact. For a second there his sight had gone, a blind screen of white tinged with a blood red at the edges. He couldn't hear anything for that moment, nothing but the loud thumping of blood racing its way through his body, and some white noise in the background, a violent sort of hum.

When his sight, his feeling, his hearing came back he found himself standing over the now sprawled figure of Kyle, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his right hand holding a vague pain around his knuckles. He was breathing heavy, could only watch as the redhead on the ground clawed at the leaves around him, desperately, before finally finding some sort of traction.

Kyle raised himself up on his arms, just a little off the ground, almost falling over as he did. He turned, not entirely balanced, widened eyes searching for a reason for this rude awakening. They found it, meeting Kenny's rage filled eyes, and the redhead froze, half-twisted upon the ground, breath coming strained. Kenny glared down at him, saw the blood trickling slowly from his cut lip, the bruise already starting to darken the left side of his face. He couldn't remember hitting him, but he certainly didn't regret it. Oh, no, he didn't.

No, no, he didn't. He was quite satisfied with the fact that he'd hit him. Actually, he wanted to hit him again. And again. And again, until Kyle knew exactly how he had felt these past few months.

That might take a lot of hitting.

Kenny moved forward, took a step, and Kyle shrank back against the ground, eyes full of fear, not even trying to get away. It was that, more than any other factor, that made Kenny pause. He was raging inside, he was ready to burst at the seams, there were things inside him that wanted out, but he paused. He didn't like that, didn't like the way Kyle was looking at him, terrified as a rabbit in a trap. Didn't like the way Kyle's eyes were wavering, unable to stay truly still for even a second. The redhead was trembling, Kenny could see it, could see the way his shoulders jerked a little, could hear how every third or fourth breath was accompanied by a near whimper.

"Why?" Kenny growled, "Why do you keep lying?"Kyle didn't answer, just continued to stare at him. The blond's eyes moved, falling on the object that had been in Kyle's hand a few moments earlier. It lay a foot to the side of the redhead, the wind causing it to flutter a little in the leaves. He stepped closer, Kyle shrinking back as he did, and grabbed the object fiercely, lifting it out of the litter so harshly that a few of the red and orange leaves lifted along with it, hung in the air for a moment before fluttering down to the ground lazily. Kyle jerked as he did so, as if he'd wanted to move, as if he'd wanted to grab at the object in his hand, and for a second Kenny though he would. But the redhead shrank back at his look, watched with wide eyes as Kenny examined it.

It was roughly rectangular, although it was missing a large chunk out of the top right corner, and all the edges were rough, scalloped, and bordered in melted brown. It was slightly curled in on itself, a little wrinkled at one side, and still smelled slightly with the acidic stench of burned plastic. The side he was looking at right now was white, covered in one area with now-smudged pen scrawl and a few patched of brownish stain.

He hesitated before turning it over; he knew what was on that side. Flip, and there it was, there was what he'd seen when he'd look at Kyle's hand a minute ago.

The two of them, arms around each other, grinning like maniac's into the camera lens. Behind them the rough-hewn log background of the shack wall, and some assorted junk that had been piled up against it over the years.

Them, arms around each other, grinning like maniacs.

Them, together.

Together.

Kennys hand began to clench, crushing the picture in his fingers. This was _his_ picture, his picture that was supposed to be _gone_, gone with everything else he'd burned at the edge of Stark's Pond months ago. His picture, and Kyle had it. And he had it _here_, at the shack, at the cabin where they'd spent so many nights together what seemed so long ago.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he unclenched his fingers. He thought he heard a rustle in the leaves below him, but he wasn't paying it attention. He looked at the picture again for a long moment, then positioned his hands at the edges – and pulled.

r_iiiiiiiiiiip_

"NO."

It was half-strangled cry, half-desperate shriek. Hands clutched at his pants, fingers digging into his legs. He snarled down at Kyle, snarled down into his desperate pain filled eyes, and ripped the photograph again.

"NO, no Kenny stop please Kenny please stop don't…" Kyle pleaded, begged, whimpering, pulling at his pants, trying to stand up but for some strange reason losing his balance each time he did.

"Shut the fuck up!" Kenny growled at him, ripping again, and again.

"Kenny, no no no…" Kyle reached up, trying to reach the blond's hands, trying to stop him from destroying the picture, but Kenny raised it out of his reach, continuing to rip it as much as he could. Tiny pieces of the photo fluttered to the ground, and he grunted with each tear, with each rip, Kyle gripping at the front of his hoodie now, pulling and pleading and begging.

"You want the fucking picture, huh? You want the fucking picture?! Take it!" Kenny almost screamed it out, whipping the fragments straight at Kyle's face. The redhead dropped his hands, covering his face and turning away, and Kenny pushed him away, almost hard enough to knock him entirely over.

"You're a liar, Kyle! You're such a fucking liar!" He did scream this time, screamed at him, and couldn't stop. "You're always lying to me, always, I can't believe the shit you told me, its all fucking lies!"

"Kenny," Kyle struggled to push himself off the ground, rising to his feet unsteadily. "Kenny…"

"SHUT UP. Shut up, I don't want to listen to you anymore, I don't want to hear you, all you say are lies, you fucker!" It was bursting inside of him, Kenny couldn't hold back the onslaught. He felt like puking and running and laying down and just fucking dying all at the same time. "Shut up!"

"Kenny," Kyle reached out his hands to the blond, but Kenny smacked them away. Kyle continued to try, his voice almost a sob, "Kenny, please…"

"Fuck off!" Kenny couldn't see straight anymore, his breath was coming too fast to control and his mind was racing too hard and all he could see, all he could really, really see was the way Kyle's eyes were getting watery, the way one tear had loosed itself from the corner of his eye and had begun to travel down his cheek across the bruise that was getting steadily darker. "Fuck off, just leave me the fuck alone! I never should have trusted you!"

Kyle winced, biting his lip, and stepped forward, just a step.

"I trusted you! I trusted you, you piece of shit! And I trusted you, and I was with you and I would've done anything, any-fucking-thing for you, and you lied to me!" Kenny was having a hard time controlling himself, his hands were clenched hard, he could feel himself shaking but he didn't know how to control it.

"Please, Kenny," Kyle stepped forward, getting closer to the now seriously shaking blond. Kenny stiffened as Kyle stretched his hands out to him, touched his fingers to his shoulders. "Kenny…"

"Don't touch me!" Kenny lashed out, pushing or punching, he didn't know which, but Kyle ended up falling against the side wall of the cabin. The redhead slid a few inches down the side of the building before stiffening his legs, pushing against the wall to keep himself upright. He looked at Kenny with a pained expression, fingers clutching at the logs behind him.

Kenny's face felt sticky, it felt hot, he could taste salt on his lips but he couldn't remember starting to cry.

"…I loved you…" His voice shook, wavered, "I loved you and you lied to me…"

Everything he'd done just moments before this was nothing but a slap on the wrist compared to the force with which those words hit the redhead. Kyle's face paled, his breathing stopped just for a moment, his eyes widened. And then he broke down. The tears came streaming out of his eyes, and he slid down the side of the cabin, his eyes remaining on Kenny. His fingers clenched in the thin grass beneath him, and his shoulders shook with each whimper, with each heart-wrenching sob that ripped out of him.

Kenny could see the despair in his eyes, the pain and the guilt and the grief all together mixed. It pained him, it did, because he still loved the redhead, and still wished him to be happy, and it hurt, hurt so bad to see him hurt so much.

He tried to say something, but all he could do was sputter sounds, he couldn't form the words, and Kyle was still looking at him, looking as if he were going to just fall apart there and then.

Kenny couldn't understand, couldn't understand the situation, couldn't understand the why and the how and the why, the why, God, why did it have to be this way? Why did everything always have to go to shit like this?

He turned away, sharply, unable to continue looking at the redhead, and started walking, stumbling off. He had to leave, he had to get away and get his head straight again.

He heard a noise, a strangled whimper maybe, but he didn't turn, he couldn't turn, he had to keep walking, keep going.

"KENNY!"

Before he could turn around, a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle. He felt another body press against his from the back, shaking, pulling tightly to him, so tightly. Kenny twisted, trying to pull out of that grip, but he could barely move, the arms were gripping him so hard. He managed to turn around, to grab Kyle by the shoulders and attempt to pry the redhead off of him.

"Don't, don't Kenny, don't leave me, don't leave me right now, please, please…" Kyle pleaded with him, pulling close again, trying to stay close.

"No, No!" Kenny pushed him away again. He couldn't handle this, he couldn't handle any of this. God, he wanted Kyle to be close to him again, he wanted to hold him and be close and feel him right there, right _there_, but fuck, fuck, he was scared, he was so scared – what if it was another lie? What if it was all just a fucking lie?

"Please, Kenny, please don't leave me…" Kyle gripped Kenny's hoodie tightly, digging his fingers into the fabric, desperation in his eyes and in his voice. "Please… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Kenny, I'm so sorry…"

Kenny felt his resolve slipping, felt himself becoming less able to push away the redhead. No, he couldn't anymore. He couldn't look into those desperate eyes and still push him away.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Kyle kept repeating, his voice dropping to a whisper, to a whimper. Kenny continued to look at him, struggling to hold back his own whimpers. "I'm so sorry Kenny, so sorry…"

They stood there for a long moment, just like that, Kenny with his hands on Kyle's shoulders, Kyle with his hands gripping at the fabric of Kenny's jacket, both staring into each other's eyes, both struggling to control themselves.

"Why?" Kenny managed finally, his voice nearly cracking. Why, why why why…

Kyle let out a noise half-way between sob and choke, and pushed himself, pulled himself into Kenny so hard that the blond couldn't stop him. He buried his face in Kenny's shoulder, shaking against him, pushing against him, and Kenny found himself putting his arms around the redhead reflexively, resting them around his waist.

"…so sorry, so sorry, oh fuck I'm so sorry…" Kyle repeated, still shaking, still sobbing a little.

"Why, Kyle? Why did you do that? Why?" Kenny questioned, his voice not whisper but not speaking, still nearly shaking himself. "What happened?"

Kyle shook his head, roughly, against Kenny's hoodie, his arms gripping tighter around the blond. Kenny ran his hands up and down the redhead's back, shakily, trying to be comforting, still wanting to know.

"Why won't you tell me?" Kenny whimpered. "You can tell me, Kyle, fuck, you can tell me anything…"

His hands continued to move soothingly over Kyle's back, but even with everything happening he managed notice the way he could feel Kyle's spine through the layers of clothes he was wearing, felt as if there were less of him to hold. When had he lost so much weight?

"No, no, Kenny…" Kyle spoke into the fabric of the hoodie, "No, I can't…"

"Kyle," Kenny pushed him away, maybe a little too fiercely because Kyle clutched at him desperately, eyes shooting towards him, fearful again. "Kyle, tell me."

Realizing that Kenny wasn't going to push him away again, was going to let him stay close, Kyle relaxed his death grip a little. He frowned, his lips quivering.

"Kenny-"

"TELL ME, Kyle…"

"I…" Kyle started, stopped, sniffled a little, but kept from wiping either his face or nose. He leaned back towards Kenny, slowly this time, defeated. Laying his forehead on the blond's shoulder, he took a breath and started explaining:

"I was fine all summer, Kenny. I… I could fight back against anything, anything they threw at me… I… I wrote to you, but I could-couldn't send it out, they checked everything… they… fuck, Kenny, they had Ike following me around _all the time_, all the time… he…he was the one who found out-found out about… about us, and he told them, and that's why… that's why they knew… Kenny, I tried, I tried so hard, I thought I _won_, I thought I convinced them…"

He hesitated then, his fingers clenching reflexively. Kenny pulled him a little closer, waiting, trying to be patient.

"…I really thought I did… it was… two weeks until we were coming back, two weeks… And I was passing through the kitchen, and-and my dad had come to get us, he stayed…. Stayed here because of work, but he came to-to pick us up… and I was passing… passing through the kitchen…"

Kyle's voice grew strained, he shuddered.

"And there was a paper, there was a paper on the…the table… and I didn't really look at it… but then I did… Kenny, it…"

His voice strained so much that it disappeared. He squeaked for a moment, fell silent with a shudder.

"…what was it, Kyle?" Kenny's voice trembled, his hands found Kyle's shoulders gripped them.

"…it was legal notice…" Kyle's voice was quiet, so quiet, so controlled, so hard to hear, "It was a claim… about-about failed mortgage payments… and… and pending… eviction… all… all it needed was a signature…a… a lawyers sig-signature…"

Something cold started growing in the pit of Kenny's stomach. Suddenly, he wasn't shaking anymore.

"It was lies, Kenny! It was lies, but it was legal and sounded real and it coul-could have worked and… and I couldn't do it, Kenny…" Kyle started shaking, harder this time, "I couldn't do it, I just looked up, and my mom, and my dad, and I couldn't… they were serious, Kenny… I… I couldn't do that…"

Kenny moved his arms, mechanically, slowly, robotically almost, wrapped them around Kyle, pulled the redhead closer to him, holding him tightly. The words were there, they were in his head, but he couldn't make sense of them yet, not yet. But he knew. He knew what that meant.

"Shhh, Kyle, shh…" He tried to calm the redhead down, but Kyle was shaking harder now, sobs coming faster, "Shh, shhh…"

He should be pissed, Kenny thought. He should be pissed, or mad, or something.

He wasn't anything. He was nothing.

He was numb.


	11. There's A Problem

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

It's been a while, eh friends? Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was interesting to try and figure it out. There's a few more coming before the end. I'd wanted it to end at 13 chaps, like VB, but it seems to want to go a tiny bit longer.

Also: Vanilla Blue hit a milestone for me in my fanfic writing history. A week and a half ago, or two?, Vanilla Blue hit the 100 reviews mark! That's just plain amazing, I never thought any of my stories would make it. Thank you all, because I know a lot of you had read and reviewed VB, and it makes me so happy to know that so many people enjoyed it. :3

Here's hoping that Lovesong can get close to that mark!

**Thanks to:**

**Bee Bop**

**Kiyuushi**

**Rerieth**

**Klasky**

**RedHolly**

**Riko**

**Kalilamae**

**Doomedy**

**Junkie**

**Yaoiluver001**

**AKT**(they do say fuck a lot, don't they? x3 Haha, maybe eventually I'll change it to mature. I don't know… heh)

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Things were going perfectly. He grinned to himself, a wolfish type of sneer, as he thought just how he was going to make everything fall together. It would be amazing. It would be grand. And, best of all, it would end up going entirely in his favor.

Cartman dropped into the couch, lounging back and putting his feet on the coffee table. Just a few more days, and he'd be able to put into action everything he'd been planning the past month and a half.

Well, he should be able to put it into action. He frowned, remembering how careful he had to be when going about getting things ready, especially lately. It seemed that for as long as he'd had the letters, both Stan and Butters had started shadowing him. Obviously, Stan was in on the whole letter thing, and they were trying to figure out what he was planning.

Cartman snorted; they were about as good at spying as they were at anything else. Which meant, of course, that they were horrible at it. Cartman easily noticed when he was being followed, or listened in on, and while it didn't exactly hinder his plan-making, it did become annoying after a while.

Whatevah. In a few days was Homecoming, an event that had seemed to escape the notice of the people involved in this whole sorry little affair. Cartman remembered, however, and he'd planned well for it. Yes, in just a few days, everything would fall into place.

He allowed himself another large grin, reaching over to pull the TV remote from the hanger on the couch's arm. He'd decided to spend the next few days relaxing, so he could better enjoy the event when it came.

The sudden ring of the doorbell brought him out of his pre-relaxation reverie. He grimaced, automatically opening his mouth to call his mom, when he remembered that she'd gone out that day. Snapping his mouth shut, he turned the TV on and pumped the volume up.

A minute passed, and then the doorbell rang again. And again. And then a few more times in rapid succession. Letting out a stream of curses, Cartman pulled himself up out of his seat and threw the remote onto the couch. Stomping towards the door, the TV still blasting behind him, he prepared to greet whoever it was with phrases that they probably would never be prepared to be faced with.

Yanking the door open, he felt the curses on the tip of his tongue die.

A second, and then he was laughing uproariously.

"Holy fuck Kahl, what the hell happened to you?" He managed to squeeze out between laughs, "You look like shit- no, worse than shit, like, you look like-"

"Give me the letters." Kyle's voice was level, just like his gaze. But even with the seriousness of his tone Cartman found it hard to stop laughing. Kyle really _did_ look like shit; he had dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes themselves were bloodshot, red rimmed. His hair, free as he hadn't put on a hat, was a mass of tangled curls, his skin was pale, the only color on his cheeks and nose, and that was from the cold. He was shaking, but whether that was from emotion, or from the fact that he wasn't wearing a jacket and it was below freezing outside Cartman couldn't tell.

"How about no?" Cartman snickered, noted how quickly Kyle's hands clenched into fists at his sides. The redhead's breath puffed out in white clouds. Cartman could see tracks in the snow where Kyle had cut across the front lawn to get to his door.

Without a word Kyle shoved Cartman back, suddenly enough that the larger boy fell back in surprise. Pushing past him Kyle moved on into the living room, grimacing at just how loud the TV was playing but moving onward.

"Hey, fag, whaddya think you're doing?" Cartman slammed the door shut, hurrying after Kyle, who was already halfway up the stairs by this time. Huffing, the larger boy jogged after him, racing up the stairs as fast as he could, and finally caught up with the redhead in his room.

"Where are they?" Kyle asked in a growl, his voice slightly rising in anger towards the end of the question. He was taking books off of shelves, flipping them open and shaking them out before tossing them aside.

"What the hell Jew, leave my stuff alone!" Cartman yanked a book away from Kyle with one hand, and pulled the redhead away from the bookcase with the other. He was rewarded with a blazing glare, one that even after all their years of rivalry managed to stop him cold, his hand still frozen in the fabric of Kyle's shirt.

"The letters, Cartman," Kyle growled, not moving, staring at him with all the fervor of a guard dog a step away from catching hold of a thief's jugular.

"Why?" Cartman forced himself to speak, kept himself standing still just like that, one hand clutching the book to his side, "Why? You didn't want them back so bad before, why now?"

Kyle held his gaze, unblinking, but Cartman thought he saw something shift in his eyes, saw something start changing. The redhead was shaking harder now, taking deep breaths.

"You can't... you can't show them to anybody, Cartman. To anybody," Kyle said, his fingers moving to clench at the bottom of his shirt. "Anybody."

"Is that it?" Cartman dropped his hand, snorting, annoyed to find he had gotten shaken up over something so stupid. "You alreadeh told me that, Kahl. What the hell, I thought you were here for something serious or something."

He turned back to the bookcase, placed the book back on the shelf where it was supposed to go. _The Book of Virtues_; he chuckled, patting its un-creased spine before turning back to the redhead behind him.

"Now, if you're done, you can leave, and I can go back to relaxing," Cartman motioned towards the door, but Kyle didn't move.

"You can't, Cartman. I know you're planning something, and I know it's going to happen soon." Kyle shook his head, "You can't, Cartman..."

"Hm, realleh? And how do you know it's going to be sometime soon?" Cartman asked, folding his chubby arms and eyeing Kyle, amused.

"Because I know you read the letters, or at least most of them," Kyle said, his voice dropping lower, becoming slightly quieter, "I know how to put two and two together, Cartman... I know you're going to do something at Homecoming."

Cartman frowned at the certainty in Kyle's voice. Leave it to the Jew rat to figure out something was going to happen. And here he'd thought that everyone had forgotten about Homecoming. Note to self: Expect the unexpected. It was at the top of his list, and he'd still missed that point.

"Oh really? I am? I didn't know that Kahl," Cartman adopted a look of ignorance. Kyle continued to glare at him, took a deep breath before speaking.

"Cartman, if anyone sees those letters, if anyone finds out, and if then my parents find out… things are going to go very, very wrong." Kyle spoke each word distinctly, slowly, as if speaking to a three year old. Cartman didn't like being talked to in such a condescending matter.

"Wrong? For who? For you?" Cartman snorted. "This might be a surprise, but that really doesn't bother me…"

"For Kenny," Kyle said, eyes catching Cartman's.

"For Kenny," Cartman repeated, "Hm, so what, your parents are going to get all bitchy and make a scene, big deal. I don't think it'd be that much of a problem for poor boy, he's used to that sort of shit anyway."

"That's not… it's more serious than that, Cartman," Kyle gritted his teeth, finally sighing after a moment. "Cartman, I need those letters back. I need to make sure no one can get them to my parents."

"Why, Kahl? What are your parents going to do?" Cartman wasn't convinced, not yet. This was another Jew trick, obviously, and he wasn't ready to throw away months of planning the ultimate humiliation in order to cater to Kyle's whims. This was going to be his moment, and he didn't want to lose hold of it.

"Cartman, dammit! I'm not joking," Kyle took a few angry steps closer to the larger boy, "This is serious, they can really fuck things up!"

Cartman gave the redhead a long look. Kyle looked angry, very angry, but also desperate. It was a strange look on him; Cartman was used to the angry, but not so much the desperate. He frowned, eyes narrowed, studying the other boy closely.

"What?" Cartman said finally, "What are they going to do?"

Cartman crossed his arms, waiting for a response. Kyle glared at him for another, long, moment, then sighed. He sagged, as if all the fire had gone out of him, and rubbed his eyes wearily. Cartman raised an eyebrow, waited patiently.

"Fine." Kyle said finally, walking over to sit on Cartman's bed. He slumped forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes focused on the ground, and continued, "My parents got this… idea. My dad made a series of legal documents, that said that Kenny's dad hasn't been paying the mortgage on their house, and that they should be… evicted."

"Pfft, right, like that'll fly in any court," Cartman looked over his bookshelf one last time, then walked over to sit in his desk chair facing Kyle. The redhead lifted his head to look at him with tired eyes.

"The records are changed." He said quietly.

"…the records are changed…" Cartman repeated slowly. Kyle nodded.

"I know enough to get into… into the system," He sighed.

"Then maybe it's true," Cartman said, shrugging.

"It's not, Cartman," Kyle said angrily, "It's not, alright? The first time I checked, right after my dad shoved those papers in my face, everything was there, it was all like it should be. And then it changed. I don't know how he did it, but he did. And now, now if my parents hear I so much as looked at Kenny with anything other than total indifference they'll put those papers into action and everything, everything will turn to shit. And all because of me. All because of me Kenny's family is going to have trouble, and he's going to have trouble-"

"Kahl-"

"-and everything's going to go to shit. Shit, where are they going to live, Cartman? Where are they going to work? What if they're going to have to try and rent a trailer? A trailer, Cartman, a-"

"Kaaahlll…"

"-trailer, they're not going to fit in a trailer. And they're going to fight more, and they're going to have more problems-"

"KAHL!"

The redhead jerked out of his rant, partly out of breath, and gave Cartman a slightly annoyed look.

"What the hell are you getting so worked up about?" Cartman sighed, rolling his eyes. Kyle shot him an incredulous look.

"Do you hear what I'm saying? Do you?" Kyle shook his head, "No, wait, of course you do, you just don't care. That's it, right? You don't give a fuck about what would happen to Kenny…"

Cartman gritted his teeth, restraining himself from smacking Kyle upside the head. It wouldn't really help the situation.

Of course, Kyle was right. He didn't really care about what would happen to Kenny, not really. Of course he didn't, if he just went around caring what the hell happened to the asses that were his so-called friends, he'd never get ahead. In anything.

Letting Kyle ramble on, Cartman got up and turned to his desk. Crouching down, he pulled open the bottom drawer, and removed the myriad notebooks, pencils, and books that littered the inside. Reaching deep into the drawer, he pushed on the back panel slightly. There was a click, on the bottom of the drawer lifted up. He pulled it open, and pulled out the shoe-string bound box, setting it aside. Carefully he pushed the false bottom back in place, and piled the contents of the drawer back in. Grabbing the box of letters, he stood up and turned to face Kyle. The redhead had grown silent, and was watching him with slight curiosity, or at least had been. As soon as he saw the box his shoulders jerked slightly, as if he'd just barely kept himself from jumping up off the bed. Cartman could see him growing more and more impatient, and turned the box over and over in his hands, giving every pretense that he was still undecided as to what to do with it.

"So this is what you want, hm?" Cartman said slowly, looking at the box thoughtfully. He glanced over at Kyle, fully delighted to see him nearly twitching with impatience.

"Yes, Cartman." Kyle hissed from behind gritted teeth. He glared at the larger boy, fingers clenching at his knees.

Cartman stood there a moment longer, holding his gaze on the redhead and keeping the box turning over and over in his hands. Finally he moved, slowly, very slowly, to stand in front of the bed, and lowered the box. Kyle grabbed at it as soon as it was within reached, ready to rip it out of Cartman's hands if he had to, but Cartman held fast to it. He leaned over, low enough so that they were eye to eye, and only an inch or two apart.

"Remember, I'm not doing this for you, Jew." Cartman said, his voice low and tone biting.

At that Kyle did rip the box out of his hands, stood up so fast that he knocked the other boy back. Without a word he left, leaving Cartman alone in his room, still glaring at the door.

"Fuck," Cartman sighed, shaking his head. For some strange reason he couldn't get the image of Kenny sleeping on the roof of a trailer and freezing to death in the cold because there was no room for him inside of it out of his head. He kicked at his bedpost, cursed when his sock-clad foot began to hurt because he was stupid enough to do it without any shoes on, and headed downstairs.

He headed downstairs, turning off the TV as he passed it. His shoes were by the front door, and his jacket hung in the entryway closet. Checking to make sure he had his cell phone and keys, he finally headed outside. The street was empty; even though he took a good look around, he could see no sign of Kyle. All the better, he thought, and headed down the street. Today just had to be the day his mom decided to take the car for a tune up. He hadn't even walked two blocks and he was huffing and puffing. Ugh. One of these days he'd convince his mom to get him his own car, a nice one. A new one. A fast one, too. Shiny, with nice rims, and a loud stereo system.

It took him a while, but finally he made it to his destination. The walkway in front of him was the swirly-s kind, leading to a doorstep. He headed on over, grumbling about the fact that it'd taken him forever to get there, and rang the doorbell. A moment passed, and the door jerked open to reveal a slightly twitching blond.

"C-Cartman, what-what are you doing here?" He asked, seeming hesitant to open the door any further.

Cartman responded by shoving the door fully open and pushing past him.

"There's a problem, Tweek," He said, turning around to face the boy. Tweek had closed the door behind him, and was standing before it, twitching and eyeing Cartman nervously.

"A-A –gah- a problem?" He shook slightly, "B-b-b-but I haven't… I h-haven't done-done anything lately…"

"Not with you," Cartman sighed, and turned towards the stairs. "Come on, we're going upstairs."

"Oh…oh, we-we are…" Tweek hurried after Cartman, who headed straight over to Tweek's bedroom door. He stopped, then looked over at the blond.

"You still got that stupid little scanner thing set up?"

"Yeah, just-just a sec…" Tweek rushed over, pulling a chain out of his pants pocket. At the end was a little plastic rectangle, and he waved it over the door handle. A slight buzz and click followed, and he pushed the door open. "There – ngh – there you go…"

Cartman headed inside, looking around closely at the equipment arranged around the room. The blinds in the room were closed, and the only light came from three widescreen computer monitors set up on a desk under the window. Three computer towers stood next to the desk, each with an LCD screen showing the CPU temperature. There were even more computer parts scattered around the room and on the floor.

Cartman waited until Tweek closed the door behind them, then turned to face the blond.

"Your parent's still don't know what you're doing?" He asked quietly.

"They-egh-they think I play v-video games all day," Tweek shrugged, or more twitched-shrugged, in truth. Cartman nodded.

"Good. I have a job for you," Cartman walked over to sit down in one of the two desk chairs. He looked over at the nearest monitor, tried to read the lines of computer coding. There, that was one thing he'd never quite gotten the hand of; no matter how hard he tried, the knowledge of coding managed to elude him. He just couldn't understand the language. He couldn't understand coding and finding cracks in other computers' firewalls. Anything to do with computers, actually. It was a good thing, then that he knew people who did.

"A j-j-job?" Tweek twitched violently, "No, no, I can't it's –gah- it's too much p-pressure, I won't pull it off-"

"Tweek," Cartman spoke in a commanding tone. "I have something that needs to be done. And you have to do it."

Tweek shuddered, standing there and glancing around uncertainly.

"I n-need coffee…" He whimpered, searching for his coffee cup around the room.

"Do this for me, and I'll buy you all the coffee you want…" Cartman said, leaning forward in the chair to look at him. Tweek eyed him nervously, unsure.

"It's… it's not going to –ugh- be like last-last time?" He asked, his fingers twitching at the edge of his shirt.

"No, it's not." Cartman said, "This is something different…"

"Noth-nothing to do with the a-a-army?" Tweek asked.

"No."

"Or-or the navy?"

"No, Tweek."

"Or-or-or the-"

"No, it's nothing to do with anything military." Cartman growled. "It's nothing big, all right? But it needs to be done. And it needs to be done _now_."

"Now…" Tweek gulped.

"Now." Cartman said, and pointed at the other desk chair. "Sit."

Tweek walked over obediently, and sat down on the chair. Reaching over he pulled a pair of black, padded, fingerless gloves from under the keyboard.

"D-don't wanna get carpal tunnel," He muttered, pulling them on securely. "What –ngh- what are we g-going to be doing?"

Cartman looked off somewhere for a long moment, thinking how to go about things. What to do first? How to do it? Well, the how would be Tweek's job to figure out, but he had to figure out where to start. Where to go first…

"All right, now, the first thing you'll do…"


	12. Let's meet again

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

Allrighty, SOMEONE --coughdairecough-- was complaining about me not posting for god-knows-how-long, so I decided to throw a bone to the dog… x3

HAHA I LOVE YOU ALL.

And I hope you enjoy this chapter. There's not much left of Lovesong! D: OH NOES but hopefully you've all enjoyed the ride.

I will be back with the next chapter much sooner than in 3 months. MUCH SOONER. I promise. And you all have my permission to pelt me with stones whenever you want so that I update faster.

**Thanks to:**

**Klasky**

**Bee Bop**

**kalilamae**

**YaoiLuver001**

**kaja1234**

**hehehegiggity**

**KajaKataMaran**

**Edley Ashward**

**Daire**

**Kaosu and**** Aki**

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

PSSSSTTTT Zoshi's b-day is on May 10! OMG ZOSHI IS GONNA GET OLD! D:

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

Kyle turned the box over in his hands. The shoelaces were tied differently, obviously, but the box was the same. Shaking it, he heard the papers inside shift from side to side. Holding the box closely to himself, he glanced around to get his bearings. He'd left Cartman's house a few minutes earlier with no definite destination in mind, headed off at a fast pace to put as much distance behind him.

He didn't know what to do. The letters were with him now, but that didn't change anything. With his luck he'd run into Ike at the next corner, and then everything would be shot to hell. He looked around, feeling slightly paranoid, but the street was empty. Good, he sighed, and headed onward, away from his house and from anyone's house, really. He needed to get away to think, to decide what he was going to do with the time bomb in his hands.

The air was cold, very cold, and he was chilled, more by the thoughts swirling in his head than the weather, but all the same he regretted not taking a coat with him. All right, so his mad dash to Cartman's hadn't been thought through all the way, and he'd ran over without really realizing what he was doing until he'd rang the doorbell, but he could've at least thought of grabbing a coat on the way out. Fall in South Park wasn't exactly the time of the year to be wandering around wearing barely anything.

Okay, not barely anything, but it wasn't much better. He huddled in on the box, attempting to keep the wind from cutting at him too much, and hurried on. He needed to think of something, try to think of something to do with the letters. He couldn't risk his parents getting wind that they'd even existed. He shuddered at the thought, regretted ever having written them, ever having kept them. He'd never thought his parents would stoop so low, he'd never thought they'd be capable of that kind of treachery.

Gritting his teeth, he braced himself as a stronger gust of cold wind hit him, and turned off the main road, following a side street to where a small dirt lane, barely visible, led away from it. He glanced around again, and seeing no one proceeded to head off down the lane. It was small, barely even qualifying as a bike trail, and it was just one of the multitude of trails he'd learned all about which led down to the banks of Stark's Pond. This one, unlike most of the others, led across fields and cow pastures, and took more of a roundabout route to the lake. Out of all the ones that led over open ground, however, it offered the most cover, and it had also been the closest one in the direction he was heading.

Cows.

Even now the cows were out, grazing, with the temperature low enough for Kyle to lose the feeling in both his toes and fingers. And most of his arms and legs as well. Still, the massive bovines munched contentedly on whatever remains of grass they could dig up, watching him pass with large, liquid eyes.

Kyle stayed far, far away from them, as far as he could. He'd only once made the mistake of thinking them stupid and slow, and he wasn't going to make that mistake again. Not now, and not any time soon. They were unpredictable and nasty, and he didn't want to have anything to do with them.

Or their crap.

Dammit.

DAMMIT. Fuck. Damn.

Kyle was happy no one was around to see him pull his shoe out of the fresh and, gag, wonderfully pungent cow patty and attempt to wipe it off in the nearby grass. Shit. If he was going to go galumphing around cow fields he was going to have keep his mind focused on making it through the mine field.

With an aggravated sigh, he continued on, climbing over the fence on the far side of the cow pasture and entering into the slight cover of a grove of young trees. They were part of the forest that extended around Stark's Pond, but it was less of a walk through them than following their curve to where they met the older growth. Of course, passing through them meant walking the last half-mile to the lake in full view of anyone or anything there, but Kyle was pretty confident of the fact that no one had followed him.

The wind was picking up, and Kyle hurried onwards, wanting to get things over with as soon as he could so he could go home and warm up. His nose felt frozen – he was sure he couldn't feel it – and it was runny as well, and he still couldn't feel his feet, even after having walked all that way, and now, adding insult to injury, he got to smell cow dung each time he raised his foot.

Life was grand.

He reached the small hill in front of Stark's in due time, wiped his nose on his sleeve before heading over it. Funny enough, lost in thought, he made it nearly to the sandy bank before he noticed that he wasn't alone. His heart thudded, painfully almost; it hadn't had the chance to thud like that too often lately. He almost tripped over his own feet, caught himself, shot a glance around to make sure they were alone, broke into a half-run when he saw they were, rethought, and tried to stop at the last second, ending up sliding into the back of the one other person there.

"What the fu-" Kenny turned around sharply, his words cutting off when he saw Kyle. His blue eyes widened, and he stared at him as if he was seeing him for the first time after years of separation.

"Sorry, Kenny…" Kyle lifted a hand to wipe his nose again, noticed for the first time how badly his hand was shaking. Damn, he hadn't thought he was that cold.

The blond shot a wary look around, just in case, but they were still alone. His eyes returned to Kyle, worried but warm.

"What are you doing here?" Kenny asked, and Kyle shrugged. He didn't really know, it just had seemed the best place to come to.

"Dunno… what about you?" Kyle glanced at Kenny. The blond sighed, looked down at to the sand at his feet.

"Just, wandering around I guess…" He said, but Kyle saw him toe at the sand. A lone green bead was revealed, gritty with sand. A swift stab of something flashed through him, a mix of grief and regret and just a tiny bit of anger, perhaps.

"Did you burn all of it?" He asked, his voice tinged slightly icy. He hadn't wanted his tone to sound like that, but he couldn't help it; looking at that lone green bead in the sand a sharp pang shot through him. A lot of memories went up in smoke on this beach.

"Not all of it…" Kenny replied quietly.

Kyle looked at the blond to see him staring sadly down at the sand, but then Kenny raised his eyes to Kyle's and smiled softly.

"Heart's still here," He said, patting his chest. Kyle grinned at that, shook his head.

"Cheesy," Kyle laughed softly, but he felt buoyed by that simple admission, that single sentence enough to lift that gray cloud up off of him for just a moment.

"What's that?" Kenny asked after a moment, looking at the box in Kyle's hands.

"Oh, uh…" Kyle balked for a second, trying to think of what to say. What could he say? "These are letters I wrote to you even though I knew I'd never be able to send them to you?" He shifted his stance, grimaced, held the box out for Kenny to take. "Here, hold this for a second. I'll tell you in a minute, I just need to take care of something…"

Kenny took the box from him, a slight frown of distaste on his face.

"Dude, is that-" He started asking, but Kyle cut him off.

"Cow shit, yes," The redhead grumbled, stomping down to the water's edge and swishing his shoe around in it. He heard Kenny try to stifle a laugh behind him, and fail.

"Damn, what, did the cow crap right in front of you? Shit, that smells fucking fresh," Kenny was laughing now, and Kyle shot a glare back at him.

"Shut up," It was the only retort he had. And now, although he'd washed most of the cow dung off of his shoe, it was wet, inside and out. He stepped out of the water, grimacing more as he squished with every step. Wet shoe, cold weather, and no outdoor clothes. This was just getting better and better. Now all he needed was for snow to start falling and he'd have it made.

Kenny had managed to get his laughter under control by the time Kyle had walked up to him, but he still looked highly amused by the situation.

"Just for that I won't tell you what this is," Kyle said, pulling the box out of Kenny's hands and starting to walk away.

"But… but you said you would!" Kenny called after him. Kyle ignored him, continuing to walk on towards the trees, and heard Kenny hurry after him. "Kyyyyllllle you said you'd tell me, and I was good and I held it for you and I waited just like you told me toooooo…."

Kyle couldn't help but snicker as Kenny caught up to him, but still managed to give him one last stern look.

"All right, I'll tell you… but not here." He said, still leading away from the lake.

"Then where?" Kenny asked, puzzled. After a moment it dawned on him just where Kyle was headed, "Ohh okay, okay, cool. Let's go."

Kyle felt himself pushed from behind suddenly, forced by the eager blond to speed up.

"Kenny, stop, it's not a race you know…" He said, forcefully slowing down. "Besides, no one's watching us, I made sure."

"You never know," Kenny answered in a conspiratorial whisper, "Some people move like _ninjas_…"

Kyle rolled his eyes, and with a sigh allowed himself to be pushed along towards the cabin in the woods. There really wasn't anything else he could do with the letters, he realized. It wasn't that far to the cabin, and he struggled all the way to think of the right way to present them to Kenny. Some way to give them to him and say something that would make it, make it… make it easy to do? Maybe? This didn't seem like a big deal, fuck, he was going to give Kenny the letters that had always been meant to be his, had always been supposed to go to him. He'd addressed them to Kenny, hadn't he? And he'd written them with Kenny in mind, always thinking of him with each word he wrote down, right? So why did it seem like a big deal now, why did it feel so hard?

They'd reached the cabin, he realized with a start. Kenny had stopped pushing him and moved forward alone, stepping onto the stone step in front and jiggling the handle. The door was unlocked, as always, and the blond flashed a grin at Kyle as he shoved the door open.

Kyle followed him inside, closing the door behind them and bumping it with his side because it always stuck at the bottom and wouldn't close all the way. Everything inside was covered in dust, all the discarded, old wooden boxes, and the potato sacks, and empty oil cans. Kenny dropped onto a pile of blankets at one end of the cabin, raising a large cloud of dust. Both boys started coughing, bad, and long, and by the time Kyle dropped onto the blankets next to the blond he had tears in his eyes from the strain.

"Sorry," Kenny coughed out.

"It's all right," Kyle shook his head, finally catching his breath. He looked at the box in his hands, toyed with the strings for a moment. He could feel Kenny's eyes flicker from him to the box, and back again. The blond stayed quiet, but there was tension building in the small cabin. Kyle felt he should say something, but he couldn't. There were dozens of ways he could introduce it, dozens, but he couldn't form the words, even one, to begin.

Finally, after agonizing for a long few minutes, he shoved the box onto Kenny's lap and said, "Here."

Kenny didn't look at it, continued looking at him, but Kyle couldn't meet his eyes. He felt like he'd just tore a chunk of himself out and left it out in the open. Kenny hadn't yet touched even a single string, but already he felt as if he were exposed, vulnerable.

Maybe he was; everything in those letters was himself, pure and uncensored and without boundaries. All those words were honest and true and spoke more of him than he could ever himself.

"Kyle…"

He refused to look at Kenny, refused. Instead he focused on the wall next to him, on the rough logs that made it and on the small spider that was crawling its way across the surface, from one crack to another. Kenny shifted next to him, he felt warm suddenly, as the blonds arm wound around his waist and pulled him closer.

"You know, it took me a while, but I just figured out how cold you must be," Kenny said softly, with a slight chuckle, his voice close to Kyle's ear, and the redhead found himself leaning into him, leaning closer to that warmth, both the physical and the not so physical that he'd been missing so much. Kenny kissed the side of his head, kissed his cheek, his jaw line, and Kyle felt himself melting with each touch, falling deeper into the blond's comforting presence.

This isn't me, a small part of him thought, this isn't what I am. I don't go to mush like this. I don't turn to jelly like this. I was the strong one, I was the one who doled out comforting touches that made all of _his_ troubles go away.

But he found he didn't care. He'd felt broken inside, torn and ripped and shredded by anxiety and stress and paranoia for such a long time. He needed this, needed to feel comforted, needed to feel that caring touch. His insides didn't feel so chaotic anymore; the heavy peace which descended over him more and more with each caress was blocking out the pain and loneliness. He closed his eyes, leaning his head on Kenny's shoulder as the blond pulled him into a tight hug. Kenny was whispering into his ear, words that Kyle was in no state to hear, but he understood them all the same, felt them go deep inside and spread that warmth all through him.

He felt safe, then. Safer than he'd ever felt before.

He felt loved.

He didn't want the moment to end, but reality had a knack of always creeping up on him when he least wanted it to. Just as he'd gotten to that point where everything felt like a dream, a wonderful and amazing dream that wasn't going to end, ever…

…his cell phone rang.

He groaned, burying his face in Kenny's shoulder, but the cell wouldn't stop. Kenny sighed, giving him a light kiss on the forehead before beginning to loosen his hold.

"Probably best if you answer…" He said, looking none too happy, but slightly nervous as well. Of course, he'd be nervous. Kyle was starting to get nervous himself. If he was getting a call, it was probably because someone had noticed he wasn't around. And if the wrong people noticed he wasn't around, they might start thinking things, and they might start thinking the _right_ things, and then they'd –

He shook his head; there he was, getting all paranoid again. With a sigh he sat up and reached into his pocket to pull his cell out. The moment he touched it the phone stopped ringing. Silence, and it suddenly seem weighted, more ominous than the ringing had been. He looked at Kenny, who was watching him with worried eyes. Kyle still hadn't pulled the phone out of his pocket, and he didn't feel like doing it any time soon. Maybe it would be better not to see who had been calling, maybe then he wouldn't have to think of what that person was thinking at the moment.

"You… you didn't open the box," Kyle said, a little desperately, anything to get his mind off of his phone. Kenny frowned, looked down at the box that lay on the floor next to them. When he glanced back at Kyle his manner was almost sheepish, as if he realized now that he should have done it.

"I didn't think you wanted me to…" He replied, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket he sat on.

"You have to. It's yours." Kyle said; he thought he heard his voice shaking, but he wasn't sure. His hand was still in his pocket, clutched tight around his cell. Kenny didn't move, his eyes still on Kyle's.

"Kyle…"

"Yeah?"

"Kyle… you should…"

"…yeah?..."

"You should… probably check who called…"

"Should I ?"

"Probably" … "Maybe"

"…What… what if its…"

"It might've been important…"

Kyle gritted his teeth, trying to think of a reason why not to check. He could think of a few, but they all stemmed from his paranoia and not from any logical reasoning. And there were multitudes of reasons _to_ check. Painfully, it was almost physical, the pain, he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket. Held it up so he could see the display. Pressed the button to light it up. Saw the caller ID.

Sick. Deep in his stomach, no, deep inside of him, past his organs, just _in him_. Sick and twisted and he couldn't breathe for a moment.

"What's…" Kenny began, but fell silent. The cabin air was becoming thick with tension and fear. Kyle wanted to throw up, but he couldn't, but he felt like it anyway. He put his cell phone away, too calmly, his hand shaking all the way. All the warmth he'd soaked in was gone, leeched out of him. He felt colder than he had before, cold, cold, and his insides were writhing, and he felt himself shaking, badly, but he wasn't. At least, he wasn't shaking as bad as he felt.

He got up, slowly. Kenny stayed on the blanket, staring up at him. Kyle looked at him, saw in him the same dread that he felt in himself. But there was something else there, a glint of defiance in the blond's eyes. Kyle shook his head.

"Stay here Kenny…" He said, his voice hoarse. "Stay… stay here, and… and take the box. Keep it. Look inside. It's yours, it was always supposed to be yours…"

Kenny looked ready to say something, to make some sort of movement, but Kyle shook his head again, desperately almost, then turned away and headed to the door. He couldn't look back; if he did he'd never go out and then everything _would_ be ruined. At least this way there was a chance he could fix it. He could still make it back, pretend he'd been at the store, taking a walk, something. He could think of something. But if he'd stay, he'd have nothing. No alibi. Everything ruined.

He reached the door with slightly more hope than he had when he'd first stood up. He still had a chance, after all. There was always a chance.

He had to pull hard; the door stuck both closing and opening, but he finally got it free and stepped outside. Pulled it closed behind him.

He really should've known better than to hope.

Ike stood watching from the edge of the clearing, a knowing look on his face, coupled with an almost ecstatic sneer. His eyes glinted with a kind of cruelty Kyle had never thought he'd see, something that was the envious hatred of a younger brother and yet at the same time was not, was something more. It was enough to make the cold colder in Kyle, make his knees feel like they were going to give out, enough to make him want to throw himself down and beg, beg, please, please, no.

Kyle was sure Ike knew that, felt that the younger boy was taking a strange sort of enjoyment out of the whole situation.

Ike looked in that moment, for all the world, like the devil incarnate.

And he was still holding his cell phone in his right hand.


	13. GOHDZIRRA

Disclaimer: SP boys are copyright Matt Stone Trey Parker and South Park Studios. Not me. And that's probably a good thing…

A/N:

HAHAHAHA 3 months. DAMMIT I suck.

Well here you have it, my friends. The last chapter of Lovesong, and the end of the Vanilla Blue/Lovesong series. I hope you enjoy this final chapter. It sat, half-finished, for a long time, mainly because I writing the second half was very difficult.

Read and review and I will love you forever!

Endnotes at the end, with updates and such, so please read them. :3

**Thanks to:**

**Klasky**

**Uncmeister**

**Tabbikatt**

**Sweetgingersnap**

**Shanello**

**Bee Bop**

**kalilamae**

**YaoiLuver001**

**kaja1234**

**hehehegiggity**

**KajaKataMaran**

**Edley Ashward**

**Daire**

**Kaosu and**** Aki**

**And all my other wonderful awesome reviewers! **

**  
I LOVE YOU ALL!!**

Thank you former reviewers for coming back, and welcome new reviewers! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Title: Lovesong

Author: Zoshi the Confused  
Rating: PG-13 to M (eventually)  
Category: South Park

Genre: General/Romance

Contains: (or will contain) Violence, Adult Situations, Swearing, SHOUNEN-AI - BOYLOVE

SEQUEL TO VANILLA BLUE

* * *

There was silence beyond the cabin walls, silence broken only by the slight sound of wind in the trees. Kenny turned the shoebox over in his hands, looking at it closely. It looked badly battered, looked as if it had been squashed and reformed more than once. He picked at the shoelaces halfheartedly, unsure whether he wanted to open it or not. He was more worried by the silence outside, the total and utter silence, and plagued by thoughts of just what might be happening to Kyle. Maybe he'd be okay… yeah, maybe… Or maybe someone had been on to him. Maybe they were waiting for him to come out of the woods somewhere. Maybe someone was tracking him…

Kenny chuckled weakly to himself; he can't start thinking like that, can't start being paranoid. If he started getting paranoid, he'd start imaging stupid scenarios and then he'd only get even more paranoid, and –

A sudden shout from outside the cabin shocked him out of his thoughts. He jolted upright, dropping the shoebox onto the blankets. For a moment he stared at the door, thoughts racing through his head, and then he was jumping, the box clattering to the floor. He crossed the few feet to the door in a second, threw it open just in time to see Kyle running past the first trees at the edge of the clearing. Kenny could dimly make out another figure a bit farther away, vanishing swiftly into the darkness between the trees.

He took off after Kyle, trying to keep the redhead in view as best he could, but it wasn't easy. The trees farther away from the cabin grew close together, and the shadows were deep and dark between them. Kenny ran as hard as he could, but apparently his frequent deaths, which never failed to cure him of that which killed him, had never managed to heal his lungs from all the damage smoking had caused.

He wheezed, beginning to shove off of trees after a while rather than running past them. When he reached the edge of the trees, he was a good deal farther behind then he would have been otherwise, and he had to stop for a moment, half-leaned over with his hand on his knees, panting heavily. After a short moment he looked around, trying to see if he could notice anything, anything that might tell him where Kyle had run to. They'd come out of the woods not far from the cow pastures. It was mostly open space, but the afternoon had gotten deeper, more evening, and the sky was half-dark. There were cows out as well, making it difficult to see too far. For all Kenny knew, Kyle and whoever he was chasing could have disappeared into the herd, or gone around the pasture.

Wincing, he gripped his side and hurried forward, trying to ignore the stitch in his side and trying to think of what direction the two could have gone. He hopped over one of the fences and headed across the pasture, avoiding cow patties and dodging between cows. There was only one destination, really, no matter what direction they'd gone, and it was the side road that led ultimately to a few ranchers' houses a mile or so from Stark's Pond. In the other direction it led straight to town, and eventually crossed Main Street a few miles from the center.

Kenny headed towards town, walking faster as the stitch in his side finally started letting up. He had to find Kyle, had to. He had to find him and figure out what the hell was going on. He hurried down the street, looking around, but the snow that was on the ground was slushy, dirty, not good for keeping imprints. Good for soaking the bottoms of his pants, however, and he grimaced at the cold that leeched to his legs from the soaked material.

Could it be… Ike?

It could, couldn't it? Ike was the one who'd found out, Ike was the one who was shadowing Kyle all the time. It had to be Ike. Who else knew where to look for Kyle? Who else knew about the cabin in the woods?

He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and sped up, jogging down the street, no idea where they'd gotten to but hoping that he could catch them anyway.

"Gah!"

Okay, so maybe taking a corner at full jogging speed wasn't the smartest idea, and he just barely managed to stop himself from crashing into Tweek, who seemed to have been going in the opposite direction.

"God, Tweek, sorry," He held out his hands to calm the other blonde down. "Sorry, just in a hurry, I need to get someplace…"

"Ngh, Kenny, wait," Tweek jerked as he stepped around him, "I got s-s-something for you-"

"It's gotta wait, Tweek," Kenny interrupted, but stopped to look at him. "You didn't see Kyle run past here, did you?"

"That's –ergh- that's the thing, I t-t-tried," Tweek shook his head, blinking, "Tried to give it to him, it –ngh- it was either him or you—"

"Did you see him, Tweek?" Kenny asked again, grabbing the blonde by the shoulders and holding him steady.

"First, first take this," Tweek shoved a handful of papers at Kenny, pushing them into his chest so desperately that Kenny had no choice but to let go of him and grab the papers. "I-I don't –ngh—don't know what they are, don't know."

"Tweek, what the hell…" Kenny started looking over the top page, but Tweek shook his head jerkily.

"No! No, I g-g-got nothing to do with – ergh- with it," Tweek said, backing away, "Kyle went –ngh- went that way…"

Kenny looked in the direction Tweek motioned; by the time he looked back Tweek was already hurrying down the street away from him, twitching and glancing around warily every few steps. Kenny looked back down at the papers in his hands, reading over the first few lines again. His mind wasn't focusing correctly on the words; he was still chasing Kyle in his head, but suddenly his reason for chasing him was changed.

He looked again in the direction Tweek had pointed, then, gripping the papers tightly in his hand, he took off down the street. He sped up, running as fast as he could, sure now that Kyle couldn't be far off. Reaching the second crossing he heard raised voices coming from his right, almost ran past before he realized he recognized them, and skidded to a stop in the middle of the street. Panting, his hand clenched around the now wrinkled papers, he stared down towards where the voices were coming from, squinting but unable to see anything. They must have been farther off than he'd thought; he could hear them, but he couldn't make out any words.

He headed down towards where he guessed they were, annoyed by the amount of trees and large bushes on the street. He couldn't see anything; those two could be anywhere. Still, the voices were getting louder; he was starting to be able to understand some of the things being said. He sped up again, coming out from behind a large hedge of evergreen bushes to find Kyle with his hands on Ike's shoulder, having backed the younger boy up to the hedge on the other side of the property.

"You. Are NOT. Going to tell them. ANYTHING." Kyle shook Ike to punctuate each word, and the younger boy glared back at him, breathing hard but looking defiant.

"You DON'T tell me what to do," Ike spat back, trying to get loose, but Kyle's grip was too strong.

"Listen to me, you little shit, you are not going to say anything to them," Kyle growled through gritted teeth, and Kenny could see his fingers clenching in Ike's jacket. The black-haired boy flinched, but didn't look away, and didn't look scared, either.

"You're the one who fucked up," Ike retorted, trying to push Kyle away now. Still didn't work. "You're the one who didn't do what he was supposed to!"

"What the hell do you want, Ike? What do you want from me?" Kyle's voice was hard, but Kenny thought he could detect a note of desperation in it. He wasn't surprised; all it would take was for Kyle to lose his grip, for Ike to take off and make it home and tell his parents, and then everything would turn to shit. Everything would be ruined.

Unless…

Unless the papers in his hand said the things he thought they said…

Kenny looked down at them again, smoothed them out between his hands. He tried to skim over the first page, but, while he wasn't exactly the stupidest kid around, the words were mostly legal terms, the paper itself looked like an official document. Still, he thought he got the gist of it, thought he understood what it meant. He looked back over at the two, still arguing with each other, and, with a deep breath, began walking over.

"You think you can just scare me into staying quiet?" Ike yelled back, his voice shaking slightly. "Well fuck you! At least I know what's right in this world?"  
"Oh you do, do you?! You think you're so fucking smart?!" Kyle said, shaking the younger boy again.

"All I have to is get home and tell them, and you're finished! You won't be able to do _anything _ever again," Ike glared at his older brother, "And if shit happens to Kenny and his family, it'll all be your fault."

"Uh, yeah, about that," Kenny interrupted, and both of them turned to him sharply, surprised.

"Kenny? What-what are you doing here?" Kyle gave him a slightly scared, mostly shocked look.

Ike, sensing that Kyle's grip had loosened, took the opportunity to tear himself away, and shot off, trying to run past Kenny and get out onto the street.

Kenny tossed the papers aside, jumping towards where Ike was headed and grabbing the smaller boy around the waist with both arms. Ike struggled, arms flailing, kicking at Kenny's legs and doing everything to try and get away. The blonde, gripping the feisty boy tightly, half-turned and tossed the younger boy onto the ground. Before Ike caught his bearings and tried to get up, Kenny dropped onto him, pinning him facedown to the ground.

"Get off of me… Get. OFF." Ike grunted, trying to push himself out from under the blonde, but no matter how hard he struggled he couldn't budge.

"Kenny…" Kyle started, staring at them both with puzzled look.

"It doesn't matter what you do, you're both gonna get in trouble," Ike said, but his voice sounded uncertain; it wavered slightly, and he shook under Kenny's hold. "You're gonna be in big fucking trouble…"

It was funny hearing the kid try to sound big and tough, Kenny thought, and he half-grinned. Kyle's expression grew even more puzzled at that.

"See, thing is, I don't think we're going to be in as much trouble as you think," Kenny said, and nodded towards the papers laying on the ground. "Check those out, Kyle, and tell me if they're what I think they are."

Ike stopped struggling, watched as Kyle picked the papers up and started reading them. After a moment he flipped the first page, then the next, his expression growing more surprised with each turn. He looked at Kenny, eyes wide, then back at the paper.

"This… Kenny, where the hell did you get this?" He looked at Kenny again, and the blond shrugged.

"Tweek gave them to me." Kenny replied, but cut off Kyle before he asked the next question, "And no, I have no idea where he got them. He said that he was supposed to either you or me. And that he had nothing to do with it."

"Do you know what this says?" Kyle asked, his voice low and too controlled. Ike squirmed under Kenny, looking up at Kyle.

"What? What are they?" The young boy asked, voice still shaky, but he didn't try getting away any longer.

"These are papers that…" Kyle looked down at the papers in his hands, then over at the two again. "These papers say that – they're _evidence_ that my-our-dad… that he tampered with legal documentation…"

He trailed off then, and Kenny felt, rather than heard, Ike squeak beneath him.

"But that's… that's like reverse blackmail!" The kid exclaimed, pushing off with his arms strongly enough to shove Kenny upwards a bit. "That's not fair!"

"Not fair?" Kenny suddenly felt seriously angry, and shoved the boy back down to the ground roughly. "And using my family as blackmail in the first place was?"

"But… but that was just supposed to be a scare tactic…" Ike whimpered, shivering. "He… he wasn't supposed to actually _change_ anything… He was just supposed to make it _look_ real…"

"What do you mean… did you have a hand in this?" Kyle asked, shaking the papers. Kenny looked down at the kid, saw Ike's face go pale.

"N-no, not really…" Ike looked down at the ground, twitching nervously. "Not really, it was just an idea…"

Oh, just an idea, eh? Just an idea. Kenny had an idea right then, a very nice, anger-resolving idea. But he looked up at Kyle, and the redhead motioned for him to get up.

"Bu-" Kenny balked, starting to try to argue, but Kyle narrowed his eyes. Sighing, the blonde got up, pressing down extra hard on the smaller boy as he did so.

Ike pulled into a crouch, backing away a little and keeping wary, wide eyes on Kenny. The blonde glared at him, but although he wanted to go over to him and punch him in his smart-ass little face, he didn't.

"Why?" Kyle asked, voice low but stern. Ike looked at him, shuddered, but stayed quiet.

"Ike, why did you do it?" Kyle's voice grew louder, but still contained. Kenny saw the familiar spark of anger in his eyes, but he didn't seem too close to losing it.

"It's just, Kyle… I just…" Ike stumbled over his words, looking back fearfully at Kenny. He quickly turned his gaze back to his older brother. "Just… you were never around…"

Kyle's look turned… thoroughly confused. He looked at Kenny, but Kenny didn't feel he could help much in this situation. He didn't have much better an understanding of the situation himself. He looked at Ike, who he still wouldn't have minded punching, at least once, but the kid wasn't doing much to fuel his anger. He was sitting on the ground, picking at a shoelace and avoiding their eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked, stepping a little closer to him. When Ike still wouldn't look at him he crouched down, trying to catch his eyes. "Ike…"

"You were never around, Kyle," Ike cried out, finally turning to look at him. His eyes were shiny, watery, his lower lip trembled slightly. "You were always _gone_."

"Ike…" Kyle breathed his name, as if it were the only word he could say at the moment.

"You were always out with _him_," Ike said the word with some distaste, turning his eyes to shoot a look at Kenny.

"You were jealous?" Kenny asked in amazement; for some strange, weird reason, it made sense.

"Shut up!" Ike yelled out, turning away to look at nothing again.

"So you did all of this, all because I wasn't spending time with you?" Kyle asked, still sounding puzzled. "You do know what you did, right? You know what could have happened?"

"No, I mean, I knew, but…. I told you, Dad wasn't supposed to actually _do_ it, he was just supposed to make it look like he did it…" Ike explained desperately, looking at Kyle. "Just make it look real enough for you to believe him…"

"Kenny's entire family could have lost their home," Kyle said, emphasizing each word, and Ike paled.

"It wasn't supposed to happen…" He said quietly, looking towards Kenny sorrowfully, but the blonde rewarded him with a stony glare.

Wasn't supposed to happen, that's not how it was planned… The kid was an idiot. Super-smart, but an idiot all the same.

"What the hell did you think was going to happen?" Kenny growled, stepping towards him, but the kid scurried a few steps to the side, looking frightened.

"It wasn't… I just… I just wanted Kyle home…" Ike said, voice dropping. He looked shamefully at the ground, "I'm really sorry…"

"You better be," Kenny muttered darkly, and Kyle looked at him, eyebrow raised. Unsure whether Kyle had heard him or not, Kenny responded to his look with a bright smile. Kyle shook his head and turned back to Ike, sighing.

"Ike, you could have talked to me, you know?" He said softly, reaching out a hand to touch the younger boy's shoulder.

"But you were hardly there," Ike said, looking at him tearfully.

"Admit it kid, you followed Kyle around, saw something you weren't expecting to see, freaked the fuck out and ran home to tell mommy," Kenny said, crossing his arms. "And it was all fun and games for you until you realized just how deep the shit got, and then you were too scared to try and fix it, so you decided you'd just go along and hope everything came out okay."

Ike gave him another fearful look and responded with a well-thought-out, articulate rebuttal.

"Nuh-uh."

Kenny, of course, gave him just as well a thought-out, articulate response.

"Yeah-huh."

"Nuh-_uh_."

"Yeah-_huh_."

"_Nuh-uh!_"

"_Yeah-huh!_"

"Stop it!" Kyle cut in, giving the both of them stern looks. "You both sound like you're five."

Kenny looked at him, frowning and feigning hurt feelings, but Kyle just shook his head.

"Whatever, listen, Ike, the next time you feel like going and wrecking someone's life, you come talk to me first, okay?" Kyle grabbed the black-haired boy by the shoulders pulling him closer and looking him in the eyes. The younger boy nodded shakily.

"I really did miss you," Ike said quietly, still not looking up. Kyle sighed, pulled him close into a hug. Kenny bit his lip and watched with mixed feelings. While all the lovey-dovey brother stuff was…_nice?_... nice, sure, it didn't entirely make him no longer want to beat the kid. At least a little. Just hit him once, not hard enough to knock him over or anything.

"So, what're we going to do now?" Kenny asked after what he decided was a decently long enough moment.

Kyle sighed again, letting go of Ike and standing up. The kid wiped his nose on his sleeve, staying on the ground.

"We are going to go to my house now," Kyle said, as if it were the most normal thing to do at that moment.

"What?!" Kenny looked at him in shock.

"You're going _home_?!" Ike mimicked Kenny's expression.

Kyle looked at both of them as if _they_ were the ones who were insane.

"Yeah, home." He held up the papers, shaking them. "We have these, remember?"

Kenny thought about it; with those papers, they not only could prove that whatever blackmail they had was now gone, but also that there now existed blackmail _against_ them.

Of course, even with those papers, there was nothing that would stop them from kicking him, or both of them, out of their house.

"What are we going to do there?" Kenny asked, suddenly realizing that while he was having the internal thought fest, Kyle had grabbed his arm and was pulling him along down the street. Turning, he saw Ike following them a few steps behind.

"We're going to tell them they have nothing to use against us now." Kyle said, and looked at Kenny with a grin. Kenny wasn't sure he could return it.

"But… what if they have a different plan…" Kenny started, "Shit, what if they get super pissed and… and disown you or something?"

"They wouldn't do that!" Ike cried out from behind them, and Kenny turned to glare at him.

"Oh, sure, but they were ready to toss my whole family on the street, right?" He felt a little satisfaction watching the kid's face pale, but Kyle tugged him forward.

"Come on, the sooner we get it over with…" Kyle started, looking around as they went to cross a street.

"Sooner we get to see your mom turn into Godzilla?" Kenny finished for him. Kyle shot him an aggravated look.

"She's not going to turn into Godzilla," He replied, slipping his hand down Kenny's arm to grip his hand instead and tugging him along.

"Right, dude," Kenny wasn't convinced; he was counting down the minutes until he was disintegrated by energy beams, or eye-lasers.

"She might turn into Godzilla," Ike spoke up behind them, and Kyle stopped, turning a glare on the younger boy. Kenny couldn't help but grin, even if he was still a little pissed at the kid.

"No one will be turning into Godzilla!" Kyle turned back around sharply and headed off again. There was silence for a moment, during which only their footsteps on concrete and in slush.

"No, Kyle's right," Ike spoke up after a long while, "If she turns into anything, it'll be Ghidorah…"

"IKE!" Kyle nearly screamed.

"No, no, Ike's got it!" Kenny agreed, "Ghidorah, makes sense!"

"It does not make sense!" Kyle pulled Kenny harder, speeding up.

"Kyle… are you scared?" Kenny asked, trying to get a good look at the redhead, but Kyle kept his face turned forward. A few steps ahead of Kenny as he was, the blonde couldn't see his face too well.

"No," Kyle answered sharply. Kenny turned to look back at Ike; the kid looked pale, but well enough to exchange a knowing look.

Of course, considering that Kyle was most likely getting more nervous by the second, Kenny decided it'd be for the best not to start comparing his mom to the rest of the Godzilla monsters, although he thought that she'd be a kicker for Rodan if she grew wings.

They hurried the rest of the way to Kyle's house in silence, the redhead's hold on Kenny's hand getting tighter the closer they got. Kenny was starting to lose feeling in his fingers, actually, but he didn't want to move them around and risk making Kyle think that he didn't want to hold hands, because he did. He really did.

Wow. They were holding hands, in public.  
Kenny looked around, still excited by the thought even though "public" meant empty streets. It didn't matter, they were _holding hands_.

He grimaced, and mentally stabbed himself. He was getting happy because they were holding hands. When, exactly, had he turned into a fag, and why hadn't he gotten the memo?

If he hadn't been thinking so hard about the fact that he was happy with the fact that his hand was currently warmly encompassed by Kyle's, he would've noticed they were slowing to a stop. As it was, he didn't notice until he walked into Kyle's back. Muttering a 'sorry', he looked around the taller boy.

The house was no more than siding and bricks and wooden window sills, but it still managed to give off an ominous air.

"Are you guys going in?" Ike asked nervously from the back.

"WE," Kyle made sure to emphasize the word with a stern look at the younger boy, "Are going in."

"…now?" Kenny asked after a moment, giving the redhead a shaky grin, "I mean, does it have to be now? Exactly? Couldn't it be… in an hour… or twelve… or… fifty…"

"Now. We are going in now." Kyle said firmly, tightening his hold on Kenny's wrist as if he were frightened the blonde might bolt.

Kenny twitched slightly; it was feeling less like a loving hold and more like a manacle.

Kyle moved forward with determined step, and Kenny found himself following along, feet moving uncertainly. He glanced back to see if Ike was following, but he shouldn't have worried. The dark-haired boy was close behind, wearing a grim expression. Apparently, whatever he expected to happen in the house wasn't as bad as what he could expect from Kyle if he didn't follow.

The door opened.

The hallway was being crossed.

Kenny wiped his free hand across his forehead fitfully; he wasn't sweating but he felt hot enough for it. He couldn't really see their surroundings, just colors and shapes, and really the only thing he could focus on was Kyle, Kyle, just a step ahead of him, Kyle looking like he was walking into the lion's den, the papers in his hand a sword and shield that just, _just_, might be enough to keep the ravenous beast inside from tearing them apart and eating their spleens.

"Ew. Spleens," Kenny muttered, shuddering. Kyle, having stopped at the threshold into the living room, glanced back at him, puzzled.

"What?" He asked, distracted.

"Nothing," Kenny shook his head, squaring his shoulders and steeling himself for the ordeal ahead and attempting to ignore the half-panicky snicker from behind.

Yes. A punch was definitely in order. And maybe a small kick when he was down, to make sure he remembered that lesson.

"Kyle? Ike? Dinner has been ready for-"

They never did find out just how long dinner had been ready. Kyle marched into the living room, half-pulling Kenny along with him, into a swiftly deepening silence so thick it was suffocating.

Strange, for not having been able to really see things a moment before, Kenny found everybody suddenly, frightfully, clear and sharp.

The She-Beast was standing just this side of the doorway that led into the kitchen, a kitchen towel in her hands, frozen in half-wipe. Eyes wide, focused on the blonde. Mouth still formed in the last traces of an "o" – she never did make it to "r".

The Plot-Instigator, aka Broflovski the elder, was sitting on the couch, hands on either side of him ready to push him up and off. Eyes unfrozen, flickering between the two.

When sound returned, it didn't just return; it threw a block party, inviting tumult and cacophony and the rest of its friends.

"What is the _meaning_ of this?! Who said that—"

"Kyle, we spoke about this—"

"—_HE_ could come into our house and why—"

"—and you know what the consequences would—"

"—would you even _THINK_ about bringing—"

"—be. I warned you, I _told_ you—"

"SHUT. UP."

Kenny winced; he was sure that any and all of the circulation to his hand was effectively cut off. If Kyle gripped his wrist any tighter his hand would definitely pop off at the joint.

Wanting to avoid the eyes of both the enraged, red-faced mother figure now wielding the kitchen towel as a whip and looking as if she were about to advance on them, and the calmly fuming father figure who had risen slowly off the couch but now stood large and intimidating, a strange feat in and of itself as Kenny could never remember him being anything other than soft and harmless before, the blond turned to Kyle, which might not have been the best thing if he was wanting to avoid radiating anger, but it was better at least for the fact that this anger wasn't directed _at him_.

The She-Beast sputtered a few incoherent words at Kyle's interruption, strained to start again, but was once again interrupted by the redhead, or rather, by the papers brandished by said redhead.

"Your idiotic, insensitive, disgusting little game is _over_!" He growled, now turning the paper-sword on the other half of the plotting-duo. "_We_" –emphasis—"are not going to deal with your shit any longer."  
"Kyle, you are not going to use that language in this house," Gerald admonished, as if scolding a wayward dog.

"You piss me off with your stupid shit, you deal with my fucking language," Kyle retorted. Kenny could feel the hand on his wrist shaking, and not with fear either.

Kyle, it seemed, had reached _Limit Break_.

A whimper came from behind them, low and short.

Kenny gritted his teeth and shot defiant looks at both parental figures, slightly buoyed by the shaken looks on their faces. Rage Mode Kyle was well known in _this_ house.

"Now listen; this time, _you're_ the ones with rules," Kyle continued, voice sounding too controlled, a good indicator of just how angry he was. "Kenny and I are going to _finally_ be together, like we want to, for real. You two are going to deal with, are not going to threaten to throw anyone out of the house, are not going to make a huge scene of it, and are not going to act like _total fucking retards_ about it. And if you do that, then we won't be forced to show everyone just how it was you went about tampering with legal documents, putting an entire family at risk, all in order to blackmail your own son."

"You have no proof!" Shiela spat, kitchen towel twisted in her hands.

Silently, Kyle raised the papers in his hand, and Kenny saw the blood drain from her face. Gerald, faced with a threat that could possibly end his career, for life, was suddenly pale-faced, smaller than he'd seemed a moment ago, harmless again.

"Kyle, let me see those papers…" He said, his voice barely above a whisper. Kenny felt Kyle tense beside him as the man took a step forward, and stiffened himself. The tension was rising; Kenny could feel it, stifling, hot, could feel the house entirely filled with anticipation and fear and anger and rage all around.

"Hello?"

The tension snapped, loosely, faded somewhat by the introduction of a different voice.

As one, five heads turned towards the front hallway. Kenny frowned; a familiar voice, but entirely out of place. Before he could really come to terms with the fact that it was real, two familiar figures stepped into sight beyond the doorway into the hallway.

"Oh, uh, hi there everybody… Your front door was open," Randy Marsh said, his smile barely managing a few seconds before fading into an uncertain grin. Beside him Sharon managed a more cheerful grin, but still seemed a little frazzled. Apparently, tension was still thick in the air. They seemed to try to take everyone in, eyes flickering from person to person, but Kenny could see their eyes linger on him and Kyle for a longer moment.

"Oh, and it's a good thing you're here too Kenny, we were going to look for you too," Sharon said, then turned her attention to Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski, "You see, we just wanted to stop in for a little chat with Kyle."

For a moment the Marshes looked uncertain, then Randy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Ah, we've known each other for so long, and they'd find out anyway," He said, and sighed again. "You see, Stan… had a talk with us…"

"Yes, and, well, I'm sure he'd tell you two when he was ready, but we just wanted to make sure… You know, these days, you can't always be certain how someone will react…" Sharon explained, not explaining. Well, not really, but Kenny could see where this was going.

She paused again, looked at Randy for a second before turning back to them and continuing.

"You see, boys, Stan… Stan thinks he might be bi…" Sharon continued, almost solemnly, as if she were declaring an illness in the family. Still, there was a sincerity in her eyes, and she continued, almost hurried through her next words, "Oh, I know we shouldn't be telling anyone before he's ready for it, but we really were worried how people will react…"

"Yeah, you know, we figured it'd be safer if we could ask if you two would, you know…" Randy shrugged almost helplessly, suddenly unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Don't worry," Kyle cut in suddenly, his voice almost soft, and Kenny could feel the tension leaving him. "He's got us."

"Yeah, besides," Kenny added with a grin, lifting their joined hands, "He'll be in good company."

That earned him a smile from the redhead, and he returned it, and they really didn't need words between them, and fuck if a moment like that couldn't make him forget that they weren't out of the fire just yet.

"Well, that's good." Relief flooded Sharon's voice, and she grinned at the two, as if finding out that her newly-bi-curious son's best friends were gay for each other was an everyday occurrence. "That's good, thank you."

"Thanks boys," Randy added, nodding, seeming even more uncomfortable with the whole situation, but managing a half-smile all the same.

With small grins and nods and more lightly muttered 'thank-you's the Marshes departed, not quite moving as if hounds were at their heels, but quickly all the same.

For the second time in a half-hour silence descended on the house, the same sort of shocked silence as before, only one that Kenny felt worked more in their favor.

After he felt a long enough moment pass, the blonde, vigor having been renewed by the exchange with the Marshes, sent a bright smile towards all corners of the room, and even at the center where the Broflovski parents were, and declared loudly and cheerfully,

"Well, ain't that a kick in the face."

* * *

"So, are you going to show him the papers?" Kenny asked around a mouthful of chips, leaning back against the taller boy comfortably.

"Yeah, I just want to make a copy first," Kyle answered, stealing a chip from the blonde's bag. "That way I can keep the originals safe."

"Hm, good thinking," Kenny said, "And where're you going to keep those?"

"Still trying to figure that out," Kyle admitted, leaning over on the blankets suddenly. Kenny frowned at the sudden lack of back support, but refused to prop himself up, instead ending up leaning on Kyle's legs.

"I might know a trustworthy person," Kenny popped another chip into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully. Kyle was still moving around a lot, but the blonde resisted the urge to smack him in the stomach and get him to lay still for a moment.

"Yeah, well, I thought I knew one too," Kyle said, slightly out of breath as he picked himself up again. Kenny groaned, being forced to move once more, but Kyle ignored him, handing him a shoebox. "Admittedly, it's probably a good thing he didn't do exactly what I told him."

Kenny put the chips aside, and took the shoebox from him. He felt Kyle's arms curve around his waist as he looked the box over. The redhead had shifted to sit next to him now, instead of behind. There was a slight tenseness in him, however, and Kenny wondered just what he'd find when he undid those strings.

"Do you think things are going to get better now?" He asked quietly. Kyle sighed sofly, head falling to Kenny's shoulder.

"We have each other," He replied softly. Kenny kissed the top of his head, breathed him in.

"That's all that matters," The blonde said, saw Kyle grin.

"Nothing else."

The first string came undone easily. The second one was tougher, knotted tighter, but Kenny worked it until it gave. He could have tried to slip the strings off, but that would have meant crushing the box slightly, and even though it was already battered, he couldn't do it. It felt as if he'd be crushing part of Kyle. The redhead himself made no move to help, content to let Kenny unwrap and open the box as he watched quietly.

"Let's see…" Kenny peered inside, shuffling a little through the papers. "Geez, are all of them letters? How many of these did you write?"  
"Honestly? I can't remember…" Kyle chuckled softly. Kenny pulled out a paper at random, scanning over it.

" "_Dear Kenny_"… oh wow, I'm a 'dear' now?" He asked playfully, felt Kyle squeeze him.

"Yes, yes you are, you're a dear, and a sweetie pie, and a fluffmuffin," Kyle retorted cheerfully, and Kenny snorted.

"Just try calling me any of those, I dare you…" The blonde said, and Kyle laughed.

"Go on, keep reading," He said, closing his eyes.

"You sure?" Kenny asked gently, and Kyle nodded. Looking over the page again, the blond continued,

"_It's been three weeks since I came here, and I can't help it. All I think about is you, everything reminds me of you. Everywhere I look, you're there, and all I know is that I can't stand it without you. I need you here, I need you close by where I can see you and touch you and feel that you're real. I need to know you're real, because sometimes it gets so hard to believe. Because when I'm with you it feels like some sort of incredible dream, one I don't ever want to wake up from…"_

* * *

Endnotes:

Lovesong has happily ended at 13 chapters long, just like Vanilla Blue. That was not planned, the story planned itself, really.

The Marsh's were put in at that certain point in order to bring back some "South Parkness" to the story. Haha…

You can figure out yourselves what happens between the last two scenes. I leave it up to you to decide.

I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love KxK and love the possibilities it gives.

I thank all my reviewers very much. You all helped me keep this going. If it wasn't for you this would have died when it was still Vanilla Blue, and then I would have been a very sad panda… : (

Now, onto serious matters:

I am not very active in SP anymore. Unfortunately, interests change. I am sure that once the show comes back on air I might be more inclined to do new things, but right now, although I have ideas, I don't feel like starting them in case I leave them unfinished.

Here is a list of things that WILL be updated: (since I'm not sure just how many people check my profile in order to find these things out)

The K-Squared 100 (updates as they come, never to be abandoned)  
A Neapolitan Love Story (because writing Craig is so much fun)

Everything else is not going to be updated.

Once again, thank you for everything!

Sincerely, and with much love,

Zoshi


End file.
